


Fell In Love With A Voice

by AnnetheCatDetective



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: AU, M/M, Not the Phone Sex Operator AU you were expecting, Phone Sex, partially set pre-series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-25
Updated: 2014-03-06
Packaged: 2018-01-13 18:11:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1236157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnetheCatDetective/pseuds/AnnetheCatDetective
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before they ever meet, they meet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Call Me For Some Overtime

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ZiGraves](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZiGraves/gifts).



> (it's been a rough month and I have not gotten to work on all that I ought to have been working on... but this is a bit important)

It was a living.

 

With grad school to pay for, Carlos reflected, there were worse things he could do to pick up the spare cash to pay for it all. It wasn't _prostitution_ , he reasoned, even if it was sex work. It was just talking, and maybe it would be fun. And if he hated it, he could always quit... provided he could line up something that would pay him half as well. He'd had the voice they were looking for, high and soft and not too lisp-y, and as long as he put the right little note of come-on into it, he'd been assured he was a grade-A twink.

 

At least as far as the clients were concerned.

 

On the phone, he was 'Brad', and he liked partying, and providing eager fellatio in back alleys or bathrooms, and older guys who played a little rough or who dressed nicely or who fit whatever description the client gave, and he fit whatever description they gave, too. Generally a lot taller and blonder and occasionally more pierced than the reality. 'Brad' wasn't _anything_ like Carlos, but he liked that-- it was probably safer, having a persona, a fake name, a whole fake identity. 'Brad' didn't even like the same things in bed that Carlos did, and that made it easier.

 

After the first week, it wasn't quite rote-- every performance had to be tailored to the client in question, even if he did have a set of flexible 'scripts' in his head that didn't take much alteration-- but nothing really phased him. It was a lot like buttering up faculty, except he said 'cock' about a hundred percent more, and didn't really want to picture seducing any of his professors or advisors. He was used to it, that was all. It wasn't a bad job, his coworkers were decent, for all that he really interacted with any of them. The pay was the big draw, of course, and the fact that he could apply himself to important things between calls, if he brought his work along with him. Get a little studying in until 'Brad's' services were required. He'd stopped getting flustered, that was the important thing. And, of course, 'Brad's' encounters weren't usually _Carlos_ ' idea of arousing, so once the whole 'phone sex' aspect stopped being new, it was almost like any other job that might have had him manning phones. 

 

There were the guys who wanted 'party Brad'-- who wanted club bathrooms and back alleys, and to imagine shoving him into walls or pushing him to his knees. There were other clients, too, older clients, who still wanted someone young and pliable-- who mostly wanted their egos stroked. To be reassured that having even a slight edge of money, prestige, or experience counted for something, and that they were desirable partners, or could be. It got to be easy, and because none of them knew or wanted Carlos, it was safe.

 

And then The Call came, and Carlos was free to take it.

 

"Hello?" The man coughed nervously, or laughed-- it was hard to tell. It didn't matter. In two syllables, Carlos was grateful he'd been the one to take the call, because for the first time since he'd started working, he was on the line with a voice he very much wanted to hear breathless and wanting. "Sorry, I've never-- I haven't done anything like this. Wow. Uh, so... My name's Cecil."

 

"Carlos." He said, kicking himself immediately.

 

" _Carlos_... That's such a nice name. They told me they were transferring me to talk to someone named 'Brad', but I think I like 'Carlos' much better."

 

"Uh... good. I'm glad. Cecil's a nice name, too-- I don't think I've ever met another 'Cecil', actually. I guess that makes you pretty special." He recovered himself enough to try and put a little seductive note back into things, caught off guard by the almost indecent sigh that had come with his own name. His real name. The call was being _logged_ , he realized, fighting against a burst of panic, and would he get in trouble for not being 'Brad'?

 

"I'm a little nervous, to be honest. Is... is it okay if we don't-- if we don't rush right into it? I don't actually know how, and... Can we just... talk a sec?"

 

"It's your call. I mean-- it's up to you. I guess it is, technically speaking, your literal call. I'm here to talk about anything you want to talk about. If it's your first time, I _can_ be extra nice to you."

 

"I bet you say that to all of the boys."

 

"Well, not all of the boys sound as hot as you do." Carlos shrugged. It was supposed to come out smooth, in the bedroom-eyes-and-all purr that 'Brad' used. Instead, it came out in Carlos' voice entirely, shy and earnest.

 

"Oh. Gosh. Well, I guess... I mean, it probably is my best personal quality. What's yours?"

 

"I don't know." Carlos said, thrown. "Uh... I mean, I'm... smart. Or I try to be. So... tell me about yourself, Cecil. We don't have to start right away, but I should probably know what it is you're looking for, out of all this, so I can make sure you have a good time."

 

"Oh. Well, uh... I guess... I guess I just... I broke up with my last boyfriend a _while_ back, and I've been lonely, and it's a small town, so... There just hasn't been anyone else, really. I haven't even had a fling since... _ugh_."

 

Carlos laughed gently. "Dry spell? Oh, that's nothing to be ashamed of... Hey, this could be good for you. You'll have a _really_ nice time with me, get a little spring back into your step, a little confidence, and maybe that'll bring Mr. Right out of the woodwork."

 

Cecil chuckled as well, and the sound zinged right through to the pit of Carlos' stomach, hot and dark. "Maybe. Thanks, Carlos. I think I'm ready to start. So... what would you look like, if I saw you? Like in a grocery store, like... like how people just meet sometimes? If we were across the produce section from each other in Ralph's and I was trying to figure out how to tell how ripe the avocados are and I looked up and saw you, who would I see?"

 

This was new. No one had ever wanted to pretend to meet him in a grocery store before-- 'Brad' was picked up in loud dance clubs, or in smokey bars that didn't exist anymore, at least not in California. One time he'd been an intern for some businessman who'd wanted to imagine fucking him over a desk, but no one had ever wanted to just run into him, in broad daylight, 'like how people just meet'.

 

"Well, I'd come over..."

 

"Wearing? Oh-- uh, if it comes up later, I'm probably just in slacks and a tie. I mean, and also a shirt. You know, just-- like... office clothes. I just started this, this job, so... I mostly dress professionally? If you need to know. And, uh, glasses."

 

Carlos paused just a moment. 'Brad' wore mesh shirts and white pants and glitter, except for when he was an office intern. Things one did not wear to pick up produce in a Ralph's.

 

"Jeans and a tee shirt, maybe a flannel shirt over that. Nothing fancy. Just something basic and clean, if I'm going grocery shopping."

 

"Okay. And... what do you look like?"

 

"Short, dark, and not entirely un-handsome. Sk-- lean. Lean build. My hair is kind of a mess... I've been told I have a very nice smile, though, so that makes up for it. I definitely have a very nice smile for the well-dressed man looking confused over the avocados. You pry off the little bit of stem. If it's green and the whole thing's not rock hard, then they're good to go."

 

"Oh." Cecil laughed, delighted. "I had no idea this would be educational! I mean... Thank you. I don't think we've met-- That's what I'd say, I think? And I was so sure I knew everybody! And-- and I'd ask you, if you wanted a cup of coffee. Or something. Just... to say thanks for the help."

 

No one, but no one, had fantasized about taking him for a coffee. "That sounds really nice."

 

"Coffee might turn into a movie. Just to rush this along. And I might-- _might_ \-- take your hand. Or put my head on your shoulder."

 

" _Cecil_." Carlos smiled. "You're adorable. I'm surprised no one's beat me to the punch, picking you up in produce. Don't tell me in your wildest fantasies, you hold my hand at the movies. Come on... this is make-believe. It's all safe, any crazy thing you want is safe. Now. Do you want me to hold your _hand_? Or do you want me to make you scream?"

 

"I would hate to _scream_ , I think that might ruin the movie for the other patrons..."

 

"Well then you'll just have to find a way to keep yourself quiet during the movie..." He purred. "Because it's my duty as your wildest fantasy to do a little more than hold your hand. Now, here we are, in the back row of a dark movie theater, and I just bet you're distracting... I can't even pay attention to what's on screen, because I've got this handsome man cuddled up to me, nice and sweet, like he's waiting for me to make the first move-- is that right?"

 

"Well, I don't know if I'm handsome." Cecil said, with another nervous little laugh and a loud gulp. "But yes? Yes. I-- I think I am, yes."

 

That was also new. Men pretended to manhandle 'Brad', they took what they wanted, they got off on the fantasy and the dirty talk and the position of power... It was part of why it was so easy for Carlos to keep himself distanced, because he wasn't interested in being anyone's boytoy. This, though, this was different, and he wasn't sure if it was sweet or dangerous, or if it was as simple as saying it was both. Cecil was still a stranger, and a client, and in many ways no different from anyone else who called-- he was sure his coworkers got the same type of calls sometimes, guys who wanted to pretend there was something a little nicer than a back-alley fuck going on, guys who didn't know exactly what they wanted and just needed a little direction to get the ball rolling, guys who preferred to play a passive role and have the fantasy of being chased... those calls just never came to _him_.

 

"Of course you're handsome. And it's a little cold, the air conditioner always gets turned way up, and we've got the back row to ourselves. It's cold except for where we touch, but I shrug out of my flannel shirt anyway, because I have a _much_ better plan in mind for that... I'm going to put my shirt in your lap, and that way no one's going to see, even if anyone comes by, when I slide my hand under it, and start to unzip your pants. How's that?"

 

"That's good."

 

Carlos could hear Cecil tug his zipper down, the teeth separating and the rustle of fabric. He envied him the freedom to, which he was not really used to.

 

" _Good_. I've liked being out with you, Cecil. I came over to talk to you in the store because I liked the way you looked, because I thought you were cute... I was surprised when you asked me out, but I was glad you did, and I knew from the start I wanted to make sure you never regretted it. And when I finally got you alone in the dark, it seemed like too good a chance to pass up... so once I get your pants open, I'm going to _feel_ you... and I'm going to take my time getting you hard, right through your--"

 

"Briefs." Cecil gasped.

 

"Right through your briefs." Carlos nodded. "Just until you're good and hard, until you're so hard they can barely hold you. I'm going to pretend to be watching the movie, if anyone comes by, but my hand is under the shirt in your lap, touching you... feeling you get hotter and harder, and my mind is just racing with all the things I want to do to you. All the things I think you want me to do to you. And I'm going to ask you, nice and sweetly, if I'm right or not. I'm going to turn and whisper in your ear, and my breath is going to be hot against the side of your neck. _Cecil_... do you _want_ this?"

 

"Yes." It came out as almost more sound than word, and Carlos was surprised-- but oddly charmed-- by how high Cecil's voice sometimes went, when it's natural state seemed to be so deep and rich. The little yelp with the note of surprise was cute, though, so many things about Cecil seemed cute, even if he was just a voice.

 

" _Good_." Carlos smiled, listening to Cecil breathe. "Are you hard for me? Can I work your nice, hard cock out and play with it? Feel you all hot in my hand?"

 

"Uh-huh. Yes. Yup. I'm-- Yeah. Please do."

 

"I'm so glad. I want to get your blood racing, Cecil, I really do. It's so exciting, doing something like this, when we're technically in public, but it's okay, no one's looking, not unless you want them to look."

 

"N-no. No one's looking. The theater is a-almost empty, anyway, it's the m-middle of a weekday, but we were both free, we were both free but there aren't that many people there."

 

"Right. And they're all sitting down front. So they won't hear you breathing hard over the movie, when I get you breathing hard. And if you want to make a little noise, I'm sure that's fine... and I'm getting so turned on just from touching you. I want to get to know just how you feel in my hand, and I want to get to know just what you like. Do I find out what you like, Cecil? If I start with quick, loose strokes... maybe I slow it down, use just a couple fingers and my thumb, before giving you more."

 

The sound Cecil made, Carlos couldn't begin to parse out, and he decided it was never a word to begin with, too many consonants strung together, guttural and strange. But once he accepted that it was a meaningless sound, he could only think of it as the hottest one he'd ever heard. It didn't take too long for another sound, deep and explosive and hot, so hot, to escape Cecil's throat.

 

"I'm going to tease the head of your cock." Carlos promised. "A swipe of the thumb first, just to see how you react-- oh, that is good. Then I'm going to make little circles, just with a fingertip, just around the tip."

 

"Un-- yes, please, do that-- uncut, I'm-- you could play with i-it."

 

"Can I? Can I push the skin back to give myself even more? I wish I could suck you off, but I think we'd get caught... I want to taste you so bad, though. I want to take you home and make you come all over again, just touching you drives me crazy. Still, just thinking about it, while I stroke your cock... the way the skin slides when I do, just that little bit, and how hard you are..."

 

He could hear Cecil masturbating, and hearing strangers masturbate had become blase, only moments before it was so much background static in life, something he thought of merely as an indicator of performance. Now, though... when it was Cecil, Carlos found himself listening, straining to hear the hitch in his breath and the little sounds of flesh against flesh, of hand on cock, to hear anything in that _voice_.

 

"Make me, make me..." Cecil moaned. "Yes, everything, all of it, Carlos, just--"

 

"Oh, baby, shh... I can tell you need a little more. I'm going to find out just how you like it, and I won't stop trying until I get it just right. Until I find the perfect speed and the right grip. Do you like a little twisting motion? I'm going to try it slow, and then quicker, slow, and then quicker... and if you still can't come, then I'll lean in and whisper in your ear again, and tell you just how _hot_ you are. _Cecil_..."

 

"Carlos, C _ar_ los, _Carlos_..."

 

"Is that it? Did I find it? Or do I need to give you something more? I can always nibble on your neck, it's right there... do you like being nibbled on, Cecil, because I think I'd like nibbling on you..."

 

It was an inelegant sound. In Cecil's voice, it still managed to be perfect.

 

"Wow." Cecil panted.

 

"Was it good?"

 

There was a pause, and Carlos was almost convinced the call had ended, when Cecil spoke again.

 

"Wow. Yeah. Thanks. I needed that. Uh... can I-- Is it weird if I call you again sometime? I mean... do you get regulars?"

 

"Yeah. We get regulars. You'll have to ask for Brad, though-- that's the name I'm supposed to give."

 

"Oh." Cecil said. There was a pause, and Carlos could hear him swallow. "Why didn't you?"

 

"I'm not sure. I guess you startled it out of me, I was studying right before I took your call. I must have been distracted. It's okay, though."

 

"What are you studying?"

 

"Science. I'm-- um, well, it's not important."

 

"I'm sure it's very important." Cecil said, and it didn't sound like pressure for a revelation on Carlos' part, only like an honest assurance that Carlos' path in life really was important, and that science was important, and that Cecil believed that.

 

"I'm putting myself through grad school here. That's all." Carlos shrugged.

 

"Well, I'm very glad you are, Carlos. You-- you were good. And nice. I needed that. I've been kind of lonely, and starting a career can be so stressful sometimes, even if it's fun and even if I love it-- I do love it! But it's a lot of pressure, and we just lost our intern... I guess I just needed to pretend tonight. Thanks for helping me with that."

 

"Cecil, I don't often get to say this and mean it, but it was my pleasure. Any time you want to call and ask for me, I'll help you pretend. You're a nice change of pace."

 

"Enjoy your, uh, science classes."

 

"Enjoy your career." Carlos smiled.

 

Cecil said a quick, shy little 'bye' before hanging up, and Carlos took the first post-call 'bathroom break' he'd needed since starting the job.

 


	2. I Know Where You're Coming From

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It doesn't take long for Cecil to become Carlos' favorite regular...

"I hope you're watching yourself with this one." Eddie said, his eyebrows climbing up his forehead, dark eyes serious. "You know there's a reason you're 'Brad' and all."

 

Rick nodded sagely, from his spot leaning against the water cooler.

 

Rick was Carlos' height-- maybe-- pale and freckled, and on the phone he was 'Shawn', and 'Shawn' was no less than six feet tall, was an athlete or a leather daddy or a bear. Eddie was 'Juan', and he and Carlos usually bitched to each other about the ridiculous 'latin lover' stereotypes that it was down to him to play out. He'd assumed, when Eddie had beckoned him over, that he had another tale of some recent ridiculous caller, only to be cautioned about The Call, and Cecil, and giving out personal information that was Carlos' and not 'Brad's'.

 

"It's nothing to worry about. I can't be the first person to ever slip up because he was distracted and give his real name. This guy is harmless, he's in another area code... he's... I don't know, he's nicer than my usual calls." Carlos shrugged.

 

"Yup." Rick snorted, eyes rolling. "The nice ones are the ones you have to watch out for. Don't get attached to your clients, that's all."

 

"You make it sound like-- Look, so a nice guy with a hot voice called up and I slipped up, you don't need to call an intervention on me. There are guys I wouldn't want knowing my name or what I do when I'm not doing this, but... Cecil might not even call again. He was pretty nervous, and he'll probably meet someone and forget all about it."

 

The other two exchanged glances, and Eddie leaned in and kissed Carlos' cheek.

 

"Okay, well, mama's got to get back to work, so... you know. Grab me if you really, _really_ need me. If there aren't any calls for 'Juan' today then I've got to be 'Jack' or 'Steve', I'm like three guys today because Thom's out."

 

"Okay, okay. I'm not going to need you. You need something more interesting to worry about, honestly."

 

"I've been doing this a long time, Carlos, I'm just saying. It happens to a lot of guys."

 

"It's always the nice ones." Rick added, before flitting back to his own desk.

 

Carlos liked Rick and Eddie-- Rick, whose voice absolutely didn't match the rest of him, and who could kind of almost commiserate with Carlos, who still didn't know exactly what 'sounding white' meant, just that it left him with a vague sense of resentment whenever someone put it in those words. Eddie, who'd been there the longest and who made jokes about the most annoying callers, and who mothered everyone incessantly, who could drop his accent sometimes due to a theatre background to pick up different roles and who'd been the resident twink despite his age until Carlos' hire. But without Thom around to provide honest dating drama, he had the feeling they were just looking for something to gab about, and most of Carlos' problems were not the type they could offer real opinions and advice on. 

 

He hoped, when Cecil called back for him, that he wouldn't be in for any 'I told you so'.

 

It happened a week from the first call, with the same shy little hello.

 

"Hi, Cecil." Carlos greeted, hunching over his little desk. The headsets were convenient, but a part of him longed for a handset, something he could hold. "I was hoping to hear from you again."

 

"I bet you say _that_ to all the boys, too."

 

"Not so much, no. You're kind of not like most clients. It's refreshing."

 

"Well thank you. How's, uh, how's science been treating you, this week?"

 

"Good. Fascinating. How's work been treating you?"

 

"Good. Really good. I'm really getting into the swing of it all. It's much better."

 

"Well, that's good. Although if it wasn't, you know, I'm here to make it all better." Carlos purred. "I can make a good week better, too, though. Do you know how you want me?"

 

"I-- I like it when you... when you take charge. Of all that stuff. I never know what I want. It's so much easier when there's someone to tell me what to want, and then I can just... want it. But-- Well, I just... I had thoughts."

 

"Tell me about it."

 

"Could we start at the park this time?"

 

"Of course we can." Carlos smiled. "Are we running into each other as strangers again, or do I know you now?"

 

"I'd say after the movies you know me pretty well." Cecil snorted. "I just thought... it's one of the nicer places in Night Vale, to start out with someone. Because it's green. And there are trees, and grass, and, you know, all the things every park has. Picnic benches, play equipment, gazebo, that one weird shape."

 

"Park it is, then." Carlos nodded, picturing-- and probably inaccurately, he was sure-- some kind of modern sculpture. 'Night Vale' he filed away as being Cecil's town, though he'd never heard of it. The phone number looked like it was one from Yermo, which meant he'd been stretching the spirit of the truth if not the letter when he'd described Cecil as being in another area code. Somewhere out past Barstow... either out in the Mojave or up in the Calico mountains, if he'd had to guess based on the number, but now he had a location, even if it was one he was utterly unfamiliar with.

 

"It's a nice day for it." Cecil sighed, voice going dreamy. "With the sun going down, maybe? It's more crowded around sunset, but it's so much more pleasant. Anyway, people mostly tend to congregate out on the, you know, the sports fields. But there's the actual little grove of trees, which is probably why it's even called 'Mission Grove Park'? Anyway, it's very pleasant for walking. For holding hands and ducking between trees to whisper things. Which is where we might go, and what we might do, about the things you... you might want to do to me?"

 

"I might want to do a lot of things to you." Carlos felt his smile grow wider. "I might have to start by leading you off the path, and into the trees. We're all alone now, aren't we? Nobody around to hear what I have to whisper in your ear? Cecil, I want you."

 

"You can have me." The words came out in a groan that did things to Carlos that no other client ever had. It made the part of him that flew high on being able to take charge look absolutely dwarfed in comparison, he could picture his brain lighting up in response.

 

"I'm going to push you back, gently, until I have you pressed up against a tree. One with smooth bark, one that puts us someplace where we're shaded, where no one can see us from the path we left behind. And I'm going to take your wrists, and hold them up above your head, and I'm going to kiss you, Cecil... Long, and slow, the kind of kiss that you've been aching for. And when I do, I'm going to feel the way your pulse speeds up for me. How much warmer you get, when I transfer both wrists to one hand, so that the other can reach down and stroke your face."

 

"That sounds... yeah. I want to touch you, too."

 

"Hm... I don't know, can you? I've still got your hands pinned. Do you want to ask me to let you go, or do you want to struggle a little?"

 

There was that same sound that Carlos considered unreproducable, that guttural groaning of too many consonants. It had the same effect as before, and Carlos shifted in his chair.

 

"Struggle." Cecil answered breathily. "Just for fun."

 

"Just for fun." He agreed. "I'll let you go if you really want me to. But you don't, not yet, do you? You want to _feel_ me."

 

"I want to feel you."

 

"You want to feel me lean my whole body into yours, pressing you in place... And everywhere you move, I'll be there, touching you... Is that right?"

 

"That's so right. You know just what I want, before I do..." He could feel the smile in Cecil's voice. "That's so good..."

 

"Are you getting hard for me, Cecil? If I rock my hips into yours, will I feel how much you want me?"

 

"I'm, um, getting there, yeah... a little faster than usual, considering I haven't, uh-- I haven't _started_ yet. Wow. Um. Yes."

 

" _Good_." Carlos grinned. "Let's do that a while, then... so I can feel you. How does it feel knowing that I know now? That you can't hide how much you want it?"

 

"It's-- it feels... _good_. I-- I _want_ you to know. I'm g-glad I don't even have to say it. I'm not good at hiding things anyway, but... I like it."

 

"You sound like you need to be taken care of. Do you need me to take care of you, Cecil? Need me to do something about how _hard_ you're getting?"

 

" _Please_."

 

"You-- you have the loveliest voice." Carlos said. It was true, and he didn't think there was any reason not to say it, but it felt so disconnected from the scene he'd been trying to set that a part of him regretted letting it slip, and he scrambled to cover. "When you're begging for me."

 

" _Please_ , Carlos... I need it..."

 

"Shh, shh, you're going to get it. It's a surprise at first, when I'm not pressed up against you anymore."

 

Carlos could hear Cecil gasp, on the other end of the line, and it sounded not so much like arousal... he was sure he was being silly, but it sounded as if Cecil was reacting to the shock of cold, as if he'd imagined it all so well that the loss of Carlos' heat was a tangible thing for his body to respond to.

 

Carlos didn't know why, but he really, _really_ liked that.

 

"I drop to my knees in front of you, Cecil, and I smile up at you... a smile that's just for you, to let you know how much I'm enjoying myself, and how much I want you. I wanted to taste you so much in the movie theater. I'm going to taste you now. I'm going to get your fly open, going to get your cock out... are you ready for me now, Cecil?"

 

"I'm ready. I am so ready, Carlos."

 

There was a hint of a strained whimper, just before the words, and Carlos shifted in his seat again, rolled his chair forward so that he was as hidden by his desk as possible. Even alone with no one looking in on him, he felt terribly exposed.

 

"I'm going to lick you from root to tip, slowly. Just to get that first taste of you. Mm... I'm going to wrap my hand around you, loose still--"

 

"Not too loose?" Cecil asked, the start of the 'not' distorted slightly as he licked his hand.

 

"Oh, all right." Carlos chuckled, and tried not to think about the fact that he'd just heard Cecil lick his hand. "A little firmer. But I don't want to speed things up before I have my fun. I want to get a really good taste. I'm going to run my tongue around the head of your cock. Can I do that?"

 

"Oh yeah..."

 

"Good."

 

"A-and-- can you... don't even, don't even push, push the skin down all the way yet, but... just while it's where it is, with your tongue..."

 

"You want me to run my tongue in under your foreskin? Oh, that sounds fun. Yeah, I'll do that. Have I got plenty to play with, Cecil? When I'm done doing that, can I slide the skin up over the head of your cock, even when you're hard... will I have enough to nibble on, just with my lips?"

 

"Fff-yes. Yes, _please_."

 

"Good. Then I'm going to. I'm going to tease you a little, playing just with that little bit of skin. I'm going to have fun with it. And I'm going to look up at you and say... and say oh, Cecil, I love your cock."

 

There was a wordless groan, and the sound of Cecil's speed picking up, the little slap of spit-slick palm on cock.

 

"I can't help myself, with your cock so nice and hard and right there in front of me... need me to suck you off?"

 

"Touch you, I can touch you now, I-- I do. My hands in your hair. Just... just to feel you. I just want to feel you, so I run my hands through your hair, gently. Yeah. Please. Suck me. We're alone, in the trees. With the sun, the sunset, and you have such a beautiful mouth, you know just what I like..."

 

"Okay, good. I'm going to suck you off, just the way you like. Do you want me to take you deep? I can go hard and fast if that's what you need me to do, Cecil. I just want to feel you. It's getting me so hot just sucking you off, that I've got to get my own cock out, I'm touching myself while I suck you off."

 

He wished he could, bit down on his lip at the whine he heard over the phone.

 

"No, no, I want to--"

 

"Okay, okay... here, there's just enough room to lie you down on the grass. To lie down next to you and line up so we can suck each other off... I bet you have a beautiful mouth of your own. Bet it feels so good to slide my cock past your lips while I suck you... Bet you taste so good. I'm going to speed up again, go a little harder. Go deeper. I just want to take all of you. I can feel you fucking my throat--" Carlos paused. That seemed like the wrong tack, just slightly. That sounded too much like what so many guys who weren't Cecil wanted to hear out of 'Brad', and it didn't feel right, not the way Cecil liked things. "I love how it feels, to take all of you in, to know I'm just what you want. Just what you need. And I'm going to take everything you give me, because I know... I know just how you like it, and I can give it to you. I can give it to you just the way you always wanted it."

 

"Y-yeah... And-- and I... I want that. And you. Your cock."

 

"Yeah, all yours. It's not too much for you to handle, and I'll give you just enough time to adjust to it, and then I'll give you more... just what you need. Isn't that right? We're a nice fit for each other, Cecil, my body and yours. You don't even need to say a word, I'm going to find just what you like. I'm going to pay very close attention to you, Cecil, to every little noise you make, and how you move, so that I can find just what you like and give you more of it. I like paying attention to you, and the noises you make... almost as much as I like sucking your cock. I can't wait to make you come, I can't wait to taste you, swallow you... it's so rewarding, getting you off, you're so fun to play with... You like it when I play with you, don't you, Cecil?"

 

" _Carlos, yes!_ "

 

"When I roll your balls?"

 

" _Oh yeah._ "

 

"Good. Because I like that. I don't want to leave you neglected anywhere. It's such an intimate thing to get to do, cup you right where you're your softest, your most vulnerable... but you're so warm, and so sensitive there. And I just want to touch you, explore you... I'll be very careful to touch you just right. Do you like a little gentle tug there? When you're tightening up and getting ready to come, and even when it's gentle, it's almost painful, because you're just so ready to come? And you need me to just hold you, after, just hold you nice and careful?"

 

There was a grunt, after that, and a little sigh, and then it was just the sound of Cecil's breathing returning to normal.

 

Carlos definitely envied him that.

 

"That was good." Cecil sighed again. "Thanks, Carlos."

 

"You're welcome."

 

"Do... do a lot of your callers, um, do the whole outdoor sex thing?"

 

"Oh... uh, yeah, kind of. Semi-public scenes-- well, I don't know how popular they are across the board or anything, but a lot of guys who call for me tend to be into it. I'm used to it."

 

"Oh." Cecil said, softly.

 

"It's usually not this fun. I never get to do it in the park." He offered, because the 'oh' sounded too disappointed. He'd only wanted to assure Cecil that it was normal to get off on semi-public sex fantasies, not to compare him to the crowd.

 

"I've never-- I mean, I'm not _into_ this stuff. In real life."

 

"No, me either. It's okay. Some things are just... fun, when it's make-believe. That's normal, you don't need to be embarrassed. Like, it's fun to talk about getting up to something in the back row of a movie theater, or in the park, it is. I wouldn't want to go out and do it and get arrested..."

 

"Right." Cecil laughed. "And get sent to the mines!"

 

Carlos laughed too. 'The mines', it sounded so... archaic, and silly. Like something that would have happened at the turn of the century. Two years hard labor for blowjobs. "Right, I'd hate to get sent to the mines. But if you want a break from the outdoorsy stuff, we can always do it inside next time you call. I mean, if there's a next time."

 

"Yeah. No, there will be. I mean, probably. I suppose at any moment my life could end, unceremoniously, but barring that, I'll probably call again next weekend. It just... it feels nice, to get off with someone else's input. Carlos... do you really-- do you really look forward to _me_ calling?"

 

"Yeah. I do. You _are_ different from most of my clients. In a good way. And... look, if your job ever doesn't work out for you? You could probably make a living here. I mean-- you have a nice voice. You could probably make some good money off of it."

 

Cecil laughed, long and loud.

 

"What? Hey, it's honest work." Carlos said, not really offended. It didn't sound like mean laughter, he just couldn't figure out a reason for it.

 

"No, I know. It's just... I do. I mean, I am. Well, I don't know if it's 'good' money. I'm, um, I'm in radio. I'm a radio host."

 

Carlos laughed. "Well, I bet you're good at it."

 

"I hope I am. I'm glad you think I've got the voice for it. Thanks."

 

"You're welcome, Cecil."

 

"Goodnight."

 

"Night." He smiled, waiting for the click of Cecil's phone before disconnecting on his own end.

 

Okay. Maybe he had a little crush.


	3. Color Me Your Color, Baby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carlos finds himself in the throes of the weirdest case of puppy love he's ever come down with.

Carlos decided it was normal, if he thought about Cecil's calls when he made his way furtively to the single-occupancy bathroom at work, after hanging up right after them. That was the time for it, and the office had that bathroom there for more than just the usual reason. Sometimes calls got _hot_ , nothing wrong with giving yourself a mental instant replay just to take care of any pressing problems.

 

He thought he probably crossed the line when it was only ever Cecil he thought about. It didn't matter what kind of a man he pictured, they all came with Cecil's voice.

 

He tried everything. The only description Cecil ever really gave of himself was that he dressed professionally, needed glasses, and was uncircumcised. The first time, in the little office 'emergency' bathroom, he'd pictured someone who looked like a Cecil, someone pale and lanky and geeky, but endearingly so. The image fit well enough, and he'd assumed it would stick.

 

He was trying to distance himself from getting off to Cecil entirely, when he conjured up the next image, in his bed late at night and with his roommate out celebrating something. The opposite of this mental Cecil he'd concocted. He pictured someone physically imposing, pictured full lips and a detached gaze and dark, dark skin, head shaved, arms well-muscled... The kind of guy who would without a doubt not be Cecil. 

 

He was. Of course he was. He spoke in Cecil's soft voice, imperiousness vanishing-- and that was fine with Carlos, really, because 'imperious' didn't turn him on, and the mental image was still hot, was even hotter when the guy he pictured smiled sweetly and let him take the lead.

 

And after that they were all Cecil. The boy with the rosy tan and the long hair was Cecil, the guy with the bleach-blond afro and freckles was Cecil. The brunets were Cecil, the redheads were Cecil. The cute guy he'd spotted at a Korean restaurant spoke to him in Cecil's voice, the hunky chem nerd he'd crushed on the year before did the same. Guys he'd fucked before and tried to remember all became Cecil, no matter how disparate their appearances-- or, in the case of exes, their personalities. He couldn't get away from him.

 

If he was honest with himself, he didn't want to. Not really. Cecil's voice did things to him, and Cecil was sweet. Cecil let him play out his own fantasies, however carefully tailored to suit Cecil's own. Cecil was _friendly_ , before and after each session, asked about Carlos' health and classes and mood like he honestly cared...

 

He heard a lot of 'I told you so' talk coming mostly from Eddie, and a lot more cautioning, and it wasn't like Carlos believed he was in a Pretty Woman situation. He didn't think his life remotely paralleled, except that he was technically a sex worker. He thought Cecil had excellent boyfriend qualities-- if they'd actually met in a grocery store, and not just pretended it over a sex hotline, he'd say real potential. That didn't mean he thought Cecil would ever actually be his boyfriend. They'd never meet in person, and Cecil would eventually meet someone in Night Vale and stop calling.

 

Or Carlos would get a job actually doing science, which he should have been keeping up the search for.

 

Cecil's call came right on schedule, and he just didn't know how to feel about how he felt about that. He wanted to hate how glad he was and couldn't. He couldn't hate anything about the experience that was Cecil.

 

"Cecil, hi." He purred, as soon as the call was transferred to him. "Tonight I get you all to myself, don't I? Moving away from the public scenes?"

 

"Oh. Yeah." Cecil chuckled. "That would be-- that would be nice. It's good to hear your voice."

 

"It's good to hear yours."

 

"I've gotten kind of dependent on my weekly pick-up. You have a remarkable effect on my mood over the week. I think you were right, about the confidence."

 

"Good, I'm glad." Carlos grinned. "You sound a little more confident. You sound good. Not just your voice, I mean... you. I'm glad I could help with that."

 

"You, too. You sound like things are going really well for you."

 

"No, you're just hearing the smile that hearing from my favorite client puts on my face. Things are okay, though, really-- but nothing extra-good, except that today I get to talk to you."

 

Cecil laughed, and Carlos could hear mild embarrassment and flattered pleasure in it. "Well... thank you, Carlos."

 

"And where do I meet you today? Can I paint a mental picture of a nice hotel room for you?"

 

"Oh-- no. Not on my salary."

 

"A cheap one?" Carlos offered, figured maybe that was part of the fantasy anyway.

 

"I thought I'd just take you back to my place, actually." Cecil coughed.

 

"Okay." Carlos nodded, felt he shouldn't have, should have offered the hotel or imagined a fake apartment of his own. "Take me there."

 

"For coffee." Cecil's voice is demure, playful, and Carlos can't help chuckling.

 

"For coffee." He agreed. 

 

"It's not very big." Cecil sounded almost apologetic, but there was something else there, something that made Carlos' stomach twist and flip over itself. Some note of promise beyond the merely sexual. "I get the door open, and you... you see a fairly open floor plan. There are a few very bachelor pieces of furniture-- you know, cheap bookshelves, an old TV set, the kind with rabbit ears? That kind of thing. A dinette set in one corner with a red laminate table, four chairs upholstered to match. Across from the TV there's a big sofa, deep seats, very cushy. It's upholstered in rich tan and espresso leathers, and chenille in mossy green with gold scrollwork. A little stuffy and big for the space, but hand-me-downs are free. There's a throw, also chenille, sort of a burgundy-- it's the same color value as the moss green, and with the gold it sort of forms a nice little color story."

 

"Sounds comfortable." Carlos said, feeling more than ever that Cecil was an active entertainer in their transactions.

 

"Oh, it is." Cecil promised, and his voice was dark and deep and so promising. "It's very comfortable. I offer you a seat, and it's the kind of sofa that just... swallows you up in coziness. With the nice big cushions... And I do hope you'd be very comfortable."

 

"Very comfortable, thank you. I'm glad I came."

 

"So am I. Was I going to get you that coffee?"

 

"No rush." Carlos smiled, even though he was sure if Cecil described a cup of coffee to him, he'd be able to taste it. "And when I say that, I place my hand on your knee, and let it slide just a little higher."

 

"No rush." Cecil echoed, with that sweet, nervous laugh. "I've been having such a lovely time with you, Carlos... I hope that this is going to be a lovely time as well."

 

"I'm sure it will be. I always want to show you a good time, Cecil... And I just let my hand keep sliding higher, since you seem to like it. I'd let you stop me, but you don't want to stop me, do you, Cecil?"

 

"Nuh-uh. No stopping you here."

 

"Good. Because I've got two hands... and it seems such a shame to only be touching you with one of them. I'm going to put my other hand on your cheek, just soft... gentle. I like being gentle with you sometimes, sweet guy like you, but I think you like it when I'm just a little bit rough, too... Do you like it, when I play rough with you, Cecil? Did you like it when I pinned you against the tree in the park?"

 

"Y-yes. I... I don't-- I never, before... It just-- it just..."

 

"Felt safer? Because I was taking care of you, and you didn't have to fight yourself over what you wanted?" Carlos offered, felt something in him soar at saying it. This, this was what he wanted-- not from a client, from a boyfriend. He could berate himself over letting that line blur in his heart or in his head later, but for Cecil, he could just enjoy playing the part. "I want to give you that. When we're together like this, you can want anything... because I promise you, no matter how dirty you're afraid it is, I won't think so. I think I'm going to like all the things you like, and I think I'm going to like being exactly what you need me to be, Cecil."

 

"Safer." He could hear Cecil swallow. "Yes. I like letting you choose, or, or take charge, and... and it does feel safe. And I can be just a voice, and that feels safe. I-- I do feel safe with you, Carlos. About a lot of things. You make me forget that the world's not safe."

 

"No one's ever said that to me before." Carlos blinked. The more he thought about it, though, the more right it felt-- the more he realized he felt the same. With other clients, there was no escaping it, no forgetting the statistics and the hate and the target you put on your own back going into the kinds of clubs 'Brad' was found in... with Cecil, it was like they lived in a special world of their own, where there were no targets and no hate crime statistics, and no guys who got off on being rougher than their partners enjoyed, no dance club overdoses-- none of it. Just Carlos and Cecil who met and flirted in a Ralph's just like anyone might. "You make me forget that the world's not safe, too."

 

Cecil's sigh was music, and Carlos had to fight back from the emotional cliff he'd dangled himself off of.

 

"I'm going to run my hand down your chest now." He said, his voice just a little thicker than it should have been. "Down... down to untuck your shirt, and when I slide it back up, my palm is going to be against your skin. How's that?"

 

"That's good."

 

"Good. Because I really want you, Cecil... Now that we're finally so alone, I can actually get you naked. I've been looking forward to it, and I always wind up jumping the gun and we never get there, do we? Because I can't keep my hands off you... you're just so cute, and so sexy... love getting those little noises out of you, making you come... I'm going to kiss you, sweet at first... then a little harder. I'm going to nibble on your lip just a little, do you like that?"

 

"I like that." Cecil groaned. "I like being nibbled on."

 

"I had an inkling... you seemed to like it at the movies, when I asked if you wanted me to."

 

"On my neck." He sighed. "Yes..."

 

"Sensitive neck? And where else are you extra sensitive? I should look for all your favorite spots. I think I will... I'll get your shirt off, kissing you the whole time, I bet I could just get addicted to kissing you... and then I'm going to go exploring."

 

"That sounds fun." Cecil chuckled, all nervousness and delight. "Please do. No undershirt, so... you know, I'm-- I'm all yours now. For that exploring."

 

"Perfect." Carlos grinned. "I kiss my way down your neck, let my hands slide up and down your sides... I love your body. Getting to see you and feel you. You're just what I hoped you'd be, when I get you undressed. Should I play with your nipples?"

 

"Uh-hu-u-uh..." Cecil breathed the syllables out, voice shaking.

 

"Mm, more fun. First I just want to touch, just a little... little sweep of the thumb, just to see if you're sensitive."

 

"Uh-huh..."

 

"Once I notice that you are, though..." He purred. "I might just have to give you a little pinch, a little twist... a little tug. I want to use my teeth on you."

 

Cecil made The Noise, and Carlos had to plant his hands very deliberately on his desk to keep them from dropping beneath it.

 

"That frees my hands up to get you out of your pants, if I can use my mouth. Suck on a nipple 'til it's hard and then bite, just... just gently, first. Just to see how you like it."

 

"I like it." Cecil managed. "My hands in your hair... holding you-- close. Close to me, always... with your teeth on me, keeping you close."

 

"I know when I'm being encouraged." Carlos chuckled. "I want to get us both naked, fast. I'm desperate to, now, and I kiss my way back up your neck, nip at your ear. We're going to get rid of our clothes, and then I'm going to push you back down onto the couch, so I can climb on top of you. You look so good from this angle, lying under me. Such a mess, I've left marks on you, even if they're hard to see, I can see them. From up close like this, I can see where my teeth have been, the little dents in the skin, and I think that's so fucking _hot_."

 

Cecil made another sound, that might have been spelled 'fthnrp'-- not that Carlos was willing to commit to a spelling. In any other voice it might have been ridiculous, might have been too stupid even to be amusing, and yet coming out of Cecil, he still found it unbearably hot.

 

"I'm grinding down against you... feeling how hard you are. Our cocks are lined up just right, and it feels good... not enough, but it feels good. Do you know what you need? Or do you need me to know?"

 

"I just need you..."

 

"That's fine, that's good... I'm going to grab us both, stroke us together. It's nice and tight, my hand around both of us. It feels so good, with your cock squeezed right up against mine. I could get off like this, easy, but I think I want to suck you off. So I'm not going to let you come just yet, but I'm going to tease us both with just a few more strokes like this, together... because it's such a nice view, and you feel so good against me. Then I'm going to slide down between your legs, and I'm going to suck you. And I'm going to use my lips to nibble at you, I'm going to do it the way I remember you liking it... but right-side up this time. I want this to be all about you, I want to be able to pay attention, and your sweet mouth was just so distracting last time, Cecil."

 

Cecil groaned, wordless and breathy.

 

"You just need to lie back and let me make you feel good tonight. There's going to be time for me to get off later... we could have all night together, to do everything you could ever dream of. First, I just want you to feel good, to feel relaxed and taken care of. That's what this is about, making you feel good, and I won't waste any more time-- I want to swallow it all when you come, because I've been thinking about this all night, and when you invited me in, I knew exactly what I wanted. I wanted to take you all the way into my throat, wanted to swallow you down until I had everything you could give me. I want you to never have to worry, not about anything, when we're together. I want you to let go... and love it."

 

"L-love it, yeah... Love-- love-- lo- _ove_..."

 

Carlos hated how much he could read into the loop Cecil had caught himself in, and loved it. There was the little gasp and grunt and sigh of completion, the breathing that struggled to get back under control, the sudden stop to the skin-on-skin sounds...

 

"There..." He said gently. "There... that was good, wasn't it?"

 

"Yeah." He could hear Cecil's smile. "It really was. Thank you."

 

"You're welcome. I aim to please. Thank you. For... always being a pleasure to please. For letting me make you feel safe. That was really a nice thing to hear."

 

"Well it's all true."

 

"It's true on my end, too."

 

"Good luck with science."

 

"Break a leg on the radio."

 

"Bye, Carlos." The same little shy sweetness, and this time, Carlos managed to get one last goodbye in before the line went dead.


	4. Emotions Come, I Don't Know Why

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carlos gets the push he needed for his job hunt... just not the one he wanted.

"Cecil, hi." Carlos answered the phone with his customary purr, one more honest than anything he'd ever put on as 'Brad'.

 

"Carlos." Cecil sounded nervous, sounded first-call nervous instead of his usual sweetly ebullient self. "I-- I wanted to call. Maybe it's silly, um... I just-- This is the last time. That I'll be calling."

 

It was like a blow, and he felt it right there between his lungs, like the words had impacted his sternum, sent vibrations through him that settled into an ache in his heart, like they'd sucked the air out of him.

 

"Okay." He said.

 

"It's just... I fell in love-- or I'm still falling. I don't know. I just know... I thought it felt wrong, to keep calling. But I didn't want to just disappear and have you wonder, because you're not just a-- a masturbatory aid to me, you know? You're... You've really helped me so much. That confidence stuff that you said, when I first called... and a lot of things. I mean, it's practically been like a very intimate and unusual therapy session for me, and I thought... Carlos probably gets paid on commission, with a job like that, and so if you're going to stop being one of his regular clients, you might as well give him one last call, not just because he's been a great guy who's done a lot for you and deserves it, but so that he can at least get paid one more time for your time, and I thought I sounded pretty reasonable there. So... yeah. That's it."

 

"Oh." Carlos nodded. Well, it was what he'd said the first time, wasn't it? Cecil would get that confidence and meet someone. Someone he could touch and wouldn't have to pay for it, someone he could actually take to the movies and for walks in the park and back to his apartment, his red laminate table and cozy sofa... It shouldn't have been surprising.

 

Somehow it still was.

 

"I wanted to just thank you one more time. And to say-- to say I hope everything goes really well for you with grad school! And life. I'm sure it will."

 

"Thank you." He tried to recover his voice. "I appreciate that. And... and I really am glad to know that I helped you, with... everything. I'm sure you'll have a great life, too. I'll miss my favorite client, but... I think it's wonderful, that you're-- that you've got a real life."

 

He couldn't bear lying, when he'd already told Cecil so much truth, couldn't say he was glad there was another man in it. But at least he could congratulate him on having a life.

 

"You've got a real life, too." Cecil laughed softly.

 

"Between work and grad school? Hardly. No, no-- it's... I'm looking to move into a job relating to my field anyway, so... you're not leaving me in the lurch or anything. I'm not at my two weeks' notice or anything but I was never going to be doing this forever, so... It's been great while it's lasted, but I'll be doing the career thing soon enough. It's just a shame I won't have references I can use."

 

"They'd frown on that?" He could hear Cecil's smile. He knew exactly what the curve and angle of it would be, even if he never knew what sort of lips to picture it on. Some things remained constant.

 

"Yeah, I don't think they'd take me very seriously, and... I'm not ashamed of working here, on a personal level. My coworkers are great, my hours have been flexible, and my pay's been great, and I haven't done anything _to_ be ashamed of. But since I'm not going into human sexuality, well..." Carlos shrugged.

 

"Oh, yeah, I guess they'd probably tell you it 'wasn't applicable experience'."

 

"Yeah. That'd be one way of putting it." Carlos snorted. Probably not what he'd get, but it was nice of Cecil not to focus on the stigma he'd face if any future employers found out about his stint with the hotline.

 

It was another thing he was grateful to the job for, when he thought about it. He did like his co-workers, and even when he didn't like his clients, even when he got one who was slimy or creepy, well those calls always happened to 'Brad' anyway. Cecil was the only one he had no distance with. The job he did had no downsides he couldn't accept, provided he could keep it a secret, and it wasn't like there was a big neon sign outside the offices, they were situated in an building that looked like any other from the outside, and even through most of the inside. But working there made him examine his own prejudices, made him view sex workers with respect rather than with blanket pity or contempt, even if there was no brotherhood of unions linking him to them all. He was pretty sure it made him a slightly better person than he might have otherwise been. 

 

And it meant he'd met Cecil, and had had that beautiful voice in his ear, even if it wasn't for nearly as long as he'd have liked to keep hearing it.

 

"Take good care of yourself, Carlos." Cecil said, serious. "And may you have only the _best_ of luck, with everything you do in life."

 

"You, too." Carlos smiled wistfully. "Have... have a good time, and look out for yourself, and... and congratulations. On finding someone."

 

The call ended, cutting off a sound that Carlos almost thought seemed distressed. He wished he could call Cecil back, just to make sure, just to know he was okay, but that was definitely outside any protocol-- he couldn't even have been sure _what_ he heard, let alone read distress into it, or guess at its source.

 

He put real effort into the job hunt, after that. Landing a spot as a TA was a lot easier, once he was willing to go after it-- once he no longer needed something that paid a lot more if he didn't want to be in debt his whole life. He'd been the favorite student the year before, and he knew it was a professor who'd give him opportunities beyond just grading papers. Marks would be on his side, she'd help him when it came time for him to move on... From there he could go into research, he could meet the kind of people who would give him a leg up in his career.

 

It would be great. It just wouldn't involve Cecil. Carlos was glad he suddenly had a new job to distract him, because the lack of Cecil was far more depressing than he'd anticipated.

 

He didn't meet anyone who took his mind off of Cecil, not the way that work did. He didn't mind too much-- life was a little easier passing as straight anyway, academia was easier... everything was easier. It was something else he could hide, when he couldn't hide his name or his face and the way he'd always have to fight to prove that he earned everything he got, that he wasn't a token diversity acceptance at university, wasn't a token diversity hire at any job he'd take. He didn't have to exhaust himself fighting every battle, it was enough to have one unavoidable one.

 

He met people, of course-- people in science, people who were fascinating because he could exchange ideas with them, network and talk and sometimes have a good time. He formed the most mathematically perfect crop circles in a field once with a group of people and then got drunk after, just because it was the weekend and they could. He made friends as well as potential business contacts, he moved on to doctorate work... He could almost forget the time he spent working at a sex hotline. Almost.

 

He was a doctor, by the time Professor Marks invited him to the party where he met Ray, and Cecil was a distant memory. 

 

Ray was just tall enough that his extra weight couldn't quite make him look fat, a big grey teddy bear of a man who hated standing on ceremony so much that Professor Marks only even introduced him by his first name, and midway through the party, he beckoned Carlos over to a quiet corner and sat him down.

 

"Hope you don't mind sitting, Carlos-- I can't stay on my feet all night anymore, now that one of them's plastic." He grinned broadly. "I'd tell you about how I lost the old one, but you wouldn't believe me... yet."

 

Carlos smiled and nodded, and figured it was a mildly humorous way of saying the story behind it was off-limits, was something not told at parties to new acquaintances.

 

"Are you familiar with parapsychology, cryptozoology, or any other nameless branches of the great study of the Weird?" Ray asked him.

 

"If you're asking do I know those things exist as areas of study? Yes. It's not my area of study."

 

"No, no, I know. You don't believe in the weird stuff?"

 

"I decided a long time ago that I don't know enough yet to say whether some things are real or not." Carlos answered. It was the answer he gave when anyone he wasn't related to asked him about religion, but it seemed to apply to ghosts and goblins and UFOs, or whatever else the man was talking about.

 

"That's a good answer. That's a scientist's answer. The fields of parapsychology and cryptozoology and... all the rest-- they need skeptics, as much as they need honest believers. A bunch of believers, they want it to be real. They turn it all into a laughingstock if you leave 'em alone. Us alone. I believe in a lot of things. Some of it is based on stuff I've seen." He tapped absently at his leg. "Some of it isn't. A lot of scientists will say there's no God, because they study the things they see. If they study things that are big enough, or small enough, they come back around and say there's got to be one, because damned if there's a better answer, and because there are so many parallels in everything around us that maybe someone built it all and ran out of ideas, or just liked the look of the patterns. I've got a friend who studies plants. He believes in ghosts. He's seen them. If you believe that kind of thing. I've got a friend who studies ghosts and he won't believe in a damn thing he can't hold in his hand. You've been studying seismology recently and you believe yourself uneducated enough to form an opinion on the great mysteries of life. I like that."

 

"... Okay. I mean... thank you?"

 

"I need someone younger than I am to lead a research team. Someone grounded and openminded, and someone who knows something about earthquakes." He produced a few papers, folded together, from inside his sportcoat.

 

Carlos skimmed over the pages. Then he read them. Then he just stared.

 

"That's impossible. We'd have felt that _here_!"

 

"Carlos, they didn't even feel it _there_. Most seismologists won't even have heard about these, this town shouldn't even be standing and everything about it's being hushed up."

 

Carlos looked back up to the name of the town, and found nothing but a blacked out rectangle. Somehow, though, he knew. Way out in the desert where no town he'd ever heard of existed, he knew.

 

"Ray... this wouldn't happen to be a place called Night Vale, would it?"

 

"You've heard of it?"

 

"Once, in passing. I didn't think anything of it, except I'd never heard of it before. Or since. And it's out in the middle of the desert."

 

Ray smiled.

 

Carlos accepted the position.


	5. Cover Up Love's Alibi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Night Vale is nothing like Carlos expected...

The team that Ray helped Carlos to set up had been more multidisciplinary than Carlos had anticipated.

 

Night Vale, when they arrived there, was more than Carlos had anticipated.

 

"Ray, my landlord just told me to remember to eat at the pizza place next door every week if I didn't want 'consequences'. Ray, is this guy in the mob?" He demanded, harried, over the phone. Around him, the rest of the team was getting the lab set up, organizing everything for the several projects they had to get underway-- monitoring the possible earthquakes, something about a house he was supposed to go look at...

 

One of them turned on the radio, in passing. It was an old-fashioned looking little thing, sitting out on one of the gleaming steel tables, and Carlos immediately shut it off again.

 

That _voice_. That could only ever be Cecil, he was in Night Vale all right and Cecil was still on the radio, and after all this time, that voice affected him the same way.

 

"Move it into the break room, please, I don't want any non-scientific equipment on the lab tables." He ordered, hoping that would excuse what must have looked like an overreaction on his part.

 

"Move what into the break room?"

 

"Sorry, Ray, it's just the radio, guess it came with the place. About this Big Rico, though, should I be worried?"

 

"Carlos, how hard is it to eat pizza once a week? Just go with it. Just go with a lot of things, for your sanity's sake." Ray sighed. "And don't tell me you don't like pizza. Everyone likes pizza."

 

"Yeah, okay, fine. I just don't want to wake up with a horse's head next to me."

 

"Not the worst thing you could wake up to. You oughtta see my wife!"

 

"Ray, I'm being serious here."

 

"So am I. I mean, about the sanity. Night Vale isn't like any place you'll have ever been."

 

"Wouldn't be hard. I'm not exactly well-traveled."

 

"Night Vale is _different_." Ray stressed. "Check out the house in the notes I sent you with. You'll probably find things I don't know about, being there in person. And don't go to the library, if you can help it."

 

"Don't go to the...?"

 

"Carlos, a librarian took my leg off, okay? Just trust me on this and don't go into a library without a damn good reason."

 

"I can't talk to you right now." Carlos groaned. "I-- I have work, I mean. Thanks again for setting up the funding, and for-- for everything, but I've got to get this stuff sorted out."

 

"Sure thing. Call me if you need me."

 

Carlos hung up the phone and threw himself into the set-up. He had a press conference to do, he had to take the seismologist and one of the techs out to set up a monitoring station for those earthquakes, he had to check out this house Ray couldn't tell him anything about-- probably just some hokey mystery spot deal-- and he had to...

 

Well, he had to do all those things.

 

It was a whirlwind getting through it all, and after the press conference, everyone in town _smiled_ at him. He didn't know what to make of it, it wasn't friendly small-town greeting smiles, it was... it was like they all _knew_ something, something funny, and he was the butt of whatever it was.

 

The early results from the monitoring station were frustratingly impossible. The house Ray wanted him to check out didn't _exist_. He was looking right at it and it didn't exist! One of the lab techs made a joke about his 'boyfriend on the radio' that sent him into a paranoid frenzy, and he had the team's parapsychologist-- a man whose field he'd had no prior confidence in-- take the kid into a back room and test him for ESP.

 

 _Cecil_...

 

He wasn't at all sure about making a trip to the station, was even less sure when he got there, but an intern let him into the building and led him to the booth.

 

Cecil was and wasn't what he expected. He'd spent so long expecting so many different things, and reality was...

 

Reality was.

 

Cecil turned in his chair and promptly fell out of it, before bounding to his feet, tangling himself in the cord to his headset, and finally getting free. He opened the door with a wide, nervous grin, wiping a hand on his trousers.

 

"Cecil, hi." Carlos smiled-- also nervous, he was sure it showed.

 

"Carlos." Cecil beamed. There was no spark of recognition, beyond what he'd seen around town since the press conference.

 

He didn't know what he expected, really... If Cecil even really remembered him, he could have pictured a million faces that wouldn't have aged into his own. Cecil would remember someone young, someone without greying temples and little concentration lines permanently etched into his face from going after his degrees, who didn't wear polo shirts and lab coats... And even if Cecil wasn't still with his old new boyfriend, there was such a chance he had a new new boyfriend, he was attractive enough, he had that voice...

 

"I-- I just came by to-- test for materials." Carlos stammered, pulling the Geiger counter out of his satchel, glad he'd carried it in with him.

 

It went off immediately, alarmingly, and Cecil peered at it with some interest, a man mildly impressed.

 

"Cecil, we need to get out of here." He grabbed for the man's arm, alarmed further still when Cecil swayed heavily on his feet and almost stumbled into him.

 

"I couldn't! The pre-recorded messages only go for so long, and my listeners--"

 

"It isn't safe!"

 

Cecil laughed, surprised, and shook his head. "It's the safest place I've got. Station Management wouldn't let anything happen to me-- unless listenership was down. I don't have to worry for another couple of weeks about that, anyway, so... Can I interview you, about your... science? I'm very interested in science."

 

"Cecil, we literally cannot be in this building right now, it could kill us." He reached for Cecil again and stopped himself short, settling on beckoning the man forward from the doorway of his booth. "That is a scientifically documented thing that could happen to us if we don't get far away from here, we need to get into an emergency shower, we need to make sure that these clothes are all disposed of properly, we need to get to a hospital as soon as possible to see what damage has already been done--"

 

"Oh... Oh, Carlos, I wish I could say yes, but... I'm afraid my duties as a community radio host have to come before that kind of thing. But later?" He offered, expression hopeful.

 

This... this was definitely Cecil, and yet there was something so wrong, the same thing that was wrong with the rest of the town, perhaps.

 

"I fear for you, Cecil..." He clenched his hand into a fist, taking a step back. "I fear for all of you."

 

He offered the intern a ride to the lab for decontamination protocol, but instead, he was just shown out of the building again.

 

Maybe it was the Geiger counter. When he did take stock of himself back at the lab, there were no signs of short term exposure. Something in the building that set it off, except he couldn't understand how that could happen if that something wasn't radioactive.

 

He didn't understand anything.

 

He spent the rest of the afternoon not understanding anything, and stayed that way through a late dinner of pizza, eaten crowded into the break room with most of his team.

 

"Lita?" He sighed, turning to the only one of the scientists he'd known all through school. "Do... do I sound the same as I did in grad school? I mean, basically."

 

She laughed. "No. It took you long enough, but you sound like a man."

 

"Gee, thanks."

 

"A grown-up, then." She rolled her eyes. "Which means you practically sound like a different person."

 

"Oh." His shoulders slumped. "Yeah. Yeah, no. Thanks. Um... nevermind. I just wondered. It's not important."

 

"Are you having a crisis?"

 

"No. No crises here. I am perfectly sound. Um... why?"

 

"Because if you're not now, you're about to... Carlos, I want you to look at this clock."


	6. Call Me, Call Me Any-Anytime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carlos tries to deal with life in Night Vale-- a town that defies the laws of science, and just happens to contain Cecil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (further canon compliance, in the form of some dialogue from ep.16)

Carlos had only been in town a couple weeks when he'd seen Cecil yet again, outside Big Rico's.

 

"Carlos! Here for your mandatory weekly slice?" Cecil had greeted, with plenty of cheer, if no _intimate_ recognition.

 

"Hm? Oh. Yeah. Yeah, I was. Hi, Cecil."

 

Cecil beamed, looked practically capable of floating right off the ground, and Carlos was almost ready to accept that as a possibility. He'd seen a lot of things in just two weeks. "Do you... want to share a table?"

 

He did. He ached to. If he could have shared that table years ago, with the Cecil who used to talk to him every week, in that deep, dark, mellifluous voice... Or even now, with a Cecil who remembered him, him specifically...

 

"I'm sorry, Cecil, I-- They're expecting me back, I'm picking up pizza for the lab, we're having a lunch meeting, you know, going over our various projects, and planning out just what it is everyone needs and what everyone needs to do, and... So, it's... busy, I'm busy. Sorry."

 

"Oh. Oh, no, of course. That's okay. Let me give you my number, though? For-- for any other week, when you might be free? Or for anything."

 

Cecil fumbled to get a business card into Carlos' hands, before hurrying away-- blushing, Carlos thought, though he wasn't really sure, and maybe that meant Cecil was single now, but Carlos really had bigger things to worry about. He didn't come to Night Vale for Cecil.

 

Well, maybe a small part of him did, but he wasn't being paid to stalk an old crush, he was being paid to plumb the scientific mysteries of the town.

 

CECIL PALMER, the card read, in glossy purple ink, barely brighter than the deep eggplant cardstock it was stamped into, THE VOICE OF NIGHT VALE. There was a number he assumed was the radio station's, very small, beneath that, but on the back in silvery white ink, there was Cecil's personal number.

 

It hadn't even changed.

 

Carlos slipped the card into his pocket and picked up the pizza for the lab, turning in a list when he paid of everyone who was partaking and could be ticked off for the week.

 

When he changed for bed that night, he moved the card to his nightstand, and told himself he didn't have time to date. There was just too much weird, and too many ethical ramifications that he didn't have the energy to go through. Maybe it was a good thing that Cecil didn't recognize-- or remember-- him. It was a part of his life that it was really best he keep locked away, and the fewer people who could connect him to it, the better. The last thing he needed was a scandal now that he finally had his own research team to lead, and adequate funding, and people who looked at him and saw someone respectable and competent. He wasn't even _out_ to anyone at work but Lita.

 

He kept the card anyway. He couldn't really bear to get rid of it.

 

He spent the next couple of months staying out of the break room at the lab whenever he suspected Cecil was on the radio, taking his breaks in the early part of the day before the show started and furtively sneaking in for coffee during the odd music breaks that sometimes played, though it wasn't a music program. The lab techs had quickly convinced him to get a real intern, as fetching his coffee was not in their job description.

 

On nights when he got home early enough-- few and far between-- he listened to the very end of the show alone, sprawled on the sofa or lying in bed, a hand in his pants and a sense of guilt hot in the pit of his stomach. He could remember too well that voice coming apart for him, sweetly, _easily_. He could imagine too well those goodnights being for him alone.

 

During the days, and the nights that he did not get home early, he focused on work. The seismological reports still came in, still baffled, and Carlos wasn't sure what to _do_ about those, except to keep recording them and filing them and seeing if any pattern emerged. That was what he had a dedicated seismologist on the team _for_. The house that didn't exist would have to wait. So far there were no volunteers to actually approach the house, even for money, and it didn't feel right to make the new intern do it. They'd run all the tests they were equipped to run.

 

Time emerged as the one thing Carlos would have to focus his energy on. Time didn't work, not correctly, and he let what projects he could run with minimal interference while he focused on the fact that time was broken.

 

At first he'd assumed the clock was broken. The _clocks were_ broken? He'd eventually broken down and taken time out of his schedule to fix the one in the lab, sure that once that was done, the scientists could stop panicking about time not working right and accept that for once, they'd just been seeing weirdness where there was none, but every single one was the same.

 

'Clock', he'd quickly decided, was not even the right word for what these were. They looked like clocks, and they made comforting little ticking sounds like clocks, and they sat perfectly still on wall or shelf like clocks, but the thing Lita had showed him was not an anomaly, was not something that had gotten stuck in and then died in and then rotted in a very strange and unique manner in a clock. She'd just shown him what passed for clocks in Night Vale, and they were all, every one of them, alike.

 

Harry had worked on testing the stuff that Lita had found in the first clock and none of the tests came back as anything any of them had ever seen before, but at the time, Carlos had been sure they'd just discovered something else, something weird and out of place. It soon seemed apparent that these were normal. There were clocks that didn't contain any of the gunk. Those, bafflingly, contained nothing at all. 

 

He took the clock project home and disassembled dozens of them across a tarp spread out on his living room floor, furniture pressed back against the walls, and when he could think of absolutely nothing else to do for it, he called Harry.

 

"I've taken apart some watches, too." He said, without preamble.

 

"Carlos, you're not going to like what I have to tell you." Harry replied.

 

"I'm not sure how it can get any worse. Best case scenario, I take apart a working clock and find it empty. Do you even get how-- No, of course _you_ do. And then the others all have that _stuff_ , that rotting stuff--"

 

"Yeah, about that. It's not."

 

"Not what?"

 

"Rotting."

 

"But-- but-- The hair, the teeth--"

 

"Carlos, we had it backwards. It's not decomposing, it's composing. Growing. Those aren't the last things to rot, they're the first things to form."

 

"Fuck me." Carlos groaned, sitting down hard. "Have you had any luck calling anyone outside?"

 

"No. Emails get through fine, but I haven't been able to call. I figured it was one of those secret police things."

 

"Then I get to bring some bad news, too. Have you checked the timestamps on any of your emails?"

 

Harry snorted. "Why would I check the timestamps?"

 

"Just do it, and call me back." Carlos hung up. His phone rang not long after.

 

"What the fuck, Carlos?" Harry demanded, sounding as frightened and bewildered as Carlos felt.

 

"I'm working on it."

 

"Is this related to the clockmonsters?"

 

"Don't call them that, it sounds really unscientific." Carlos said, trying to keep the whine out of his voice. "I don't see how it can be, except that they both fit under the broad heading of 'time in Night Vale is broken."

 

"Is this something people should... know about?"

 

"Maybe. I don't know. Yes. I... I have Cecil's number, from the radio station, I don't know if--"

 

"You have his number?"  Harry laughed. "Oh, that's rich. Yeah, go for it. I mean, he... would know if that's normal, for Night Vale? From what I hear in the break room, he's pretty on top of everything that happens in this town, you might as well. Unless that would be awkward for you?"

 

"No, of course not. Why would it be awkward for me?" Carlos bristled. "All right, you talk to the team about the time thing? I'll go over it in more detail when I get in."

 

He hung up again, that creeping sense of paranoia returning. What did Harry know about 'awkward'-- why would he think Carlos speaking to a professional contact would be? He dialed Cecil's number, nerves jangling.

 

"Hello?" Cecil answered.

 

"I need to talk to you." He said, perhaps a little too quickly, a little too urgently, when Cecil picked up. It felt pretty damn urgent, with a week's worth of clocks spread across his floor, some of them pulsing, and recent data confirming just how wrong time was. "This is important."

 

"Um, okay..."

 

"Cecil... Cecil, I think time is slowing down in Night Vale."

 

It was pretty different from any telephone conversation they'd shared before, Carlos had to give it that. He wasn't sure he could spin that into a sex thing, and quickly reminded himself he wasn't _going_ to. On the other end of the line, he could hear Cecil taking a drink of something.

 

"Oh?"

 

He didn't sound phased at all, and that made Carlos feel even more nervous, made him feel he had to scramble to defend his own fear and confusion, to make Cecil-- to make anyone in the whole damned _town_ \-- feel anything appropriate to something so very _weird_.

 

"Last week;" Carlos huffed. "Seven days. Twenty four hours each day, sixty minutes in each hour. That's ten thousand and eighty minutes each week, right?"

 

"Uh-huh? _Go on_..."

 

It was maddening, and Carlos couldn't even be angry. He wished he could, it would have been nicer than being terrified, but it didn't matter how different the call was, Cecil sounded like he was so perfectly relaxed, like he was waiting for Carlos to talk his way through nibbling on his ear and undressing him. Which would have been nicer, Carlos had to admit, than talking about time, and what would happen if it kept slowing down.

 

For one thing, it would make communicating with Ray very difficult. It would make life hard for anyone on his team who had family outside that they kept in close contact with... And if it kept slowing? If it _stopped_? What would happen to all of them then? But he had Cecil on the phone, and he had to take it all one thing at a time, had to stop himself from sensationalizing-- even if it sounded necessary. Scientists were _not_ hysterical about things they still had little more than a hypothesis for.

 

"Well, I ran some figures," He explained. "And during that time in Night Vale, eleven thousand seven hundred and eighty three minutes elapsed everywhere else in the world. That's more than a full day longer. I don't know what's happening."

 

" _Neat_!"

 

Carlos blinked. "Well... it-- it _would_ be, if it wasn't happening to us right now, I guess. I mean, it would be a fascinating thought experiment, yes. And science is always very interesting, of course, but-- but this could be _serious_. I don't know yet if this is a trend that will continue on unreversed, Cecil, and... Look, just, maybe people should be _aware_ of it."

 

"Yes. Right. Of course." Cecil said. Carlos imagined him nodding, though he didn't suppose he could be sure. He could picture it, having seen the way Cecil moved. Could picture the exact mouth that little smile would grace. "Maybe we could get together sometime and you could tell me more about it?"

 

"I can't." Carlos frowned, pained. He was already warring with very unprofessional thoughts just talking to Cecil on the phone, and he couldn't imagine it would be fair to try to start anything with him, not if he had baggage Cecil didn't have, baggage that had Cecil's name on it already. Not when Cecil didn't know who he was and he knew how Cecil sounded when he came. "Just... I need you to tell your listeners, okay? About the time thing. It's important."

 

"Of course, Carlos! _Anything_ for you. For your _lab_ , I mean. For science!"

 

 _Anything_ , Cecil had said, and Carlos hadn't thought about science at all.

 

"Thanks, Cecil. I-- I need to go."

 

"Oh--okay-- goodbye!"

 

He hung up quickly and rushed back to his bedroom, collapsing into bed on his back and hurrying to get his fly open, his cock in hand. He had to push the sick guilty feeling down. Cecil's ' _anything_ ' rang in his mind, promising.

 

He pictured the park-- he'd been there, and knew where the trees all were now, and that the shape Cecil had mentioned was definitely not any kind of modern art he was familiar with, or indeed any kind of material or being that he was familiar with-- and he pictured leading Cecil to a spot like the one he'd once described. He pictured pressing him to a broad-trunked tree and kissing him hard, and hearing that little ' _anything_ ', sweet and breathy in his ear.

 

He would push Cecil down to his knees, after that, would stroke his cheek and cup the back of his head and tell him what a good boy he was if he'd just do it, if he'd just take care of him... And of course Cecil would, Cecil had said ' _anything_ ' and Cecil meant it. And Carlos knew what mouth to picture stretched around his cock, knew the color of Cecil's eyes... He could picture the skin that would be painted with his release, if he had Cecil down on his knees, saying 'anything, anything for you', and Cecil's great big pleased grin after, when Carlos was finished.

 

Cecil... sweet, helpful Cecil. Really cute, sweet, helpful Cecil, who Carlos definitely shouldn't have been placing into his pornographic fantasies now that Cecil had a face, and was no longer doing the same with whatever he imagined Carlos to look like... Carlos wiped his hand clean on his shirt with a groan and stripped out of it, the guilt redoubling.

 

He groaned again when he realized he'd forgotten to even mention the clocks he'd spent the past few days disassembling. His resolve not to call Cecil back crumbled just two days later, with the rationale that the clock thing really was important, and all his findings were continuing to be consistent.


	7. When You're Ready We Can Share The Wine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It isn't a date. Carlos just needs to convince both of them of the fact.
> 
> (another short one, but I think I can pretty well promise you that the next will make up for this)

"You need to shut this down." Donna, one of the lab techs, confronted him in the middle of what Carlos had assumed was a perfectly ordinary day of science-- well, ordinary by Night Vale standards.

 

"I'm... sorry?"

 

"With the creep on the radio." She prompted.

 

"Cecil's not a creep.:" Carlos frowned, arms folding.

 

"You clearly don't spend enough time in the break room listening to the radio."

 

"Maybe you spend a little too much time in the break room listening to the radio." He retorted. "Cecil's... I've met him, he's perfectly nice, he's just a little strange. Not half as strange as most of the people in town, I don't know why you'd call him a 'creep'--"

 

"Carlos, he thinks you asked him out on a date. He said so to the whole town." Donna mirrored his posture, and his frown. "He had your barber driven out into the desert by an angry mob when you got that crappy haircut!"

 

"I can't imagine how that could even be true." He shook his head. "I'll tell him it's not a date, he must have heard wrong the last time we talked, it was kind of a bad connection. And then everything will get cleared up."

 

"Yeah, or he'll throw you in his basement and remove your face."

 

"Cut it out. Cecil's not like that, and anyway, I don't think he has a basement. And if he did, he wouldn't-- He's not a creep!"

 

"He's kind of creepy. I mean, mostly just Night Vale-creepy." Harry offered. "But yeah, he did go off on Telly after you got your hair cut, you didn't hear any of that?"

 

"No. Go off on?" Carlos shifted, uncomfortable. He didn't think he wanted to hear this. He didn't even really want to tell Cecil it absolutely couldn't be a date, but he was resigned to doing so.

 

"Yeah, he was kind of baying for blood. And then the next thing we know, Telly's a raving lunatic giving free haircuts to cacti. Make of it what you will." Harry shrugged, spreading his hands.

 

"Total creep." Donna said.

 

"I'll talk to him. And he's not a creep."

 

Carlos hunched over his microscope before anyone could catch him pouting. He wasn't sure what to think about the whole Telly thing... Donna was clearly anti-Cecil and just... just _biased_! But Harry was pretty reasonable... and that was a little worrying.

 

When he dared his break, on hearing the music floating out into the lab when Lita had opened the door, she was calmly sipping at a cup of coffee and looking at a copy of Scientific American that the Sheriff's Secret Police had blacked half the relevant information out of.

 

"Lita?" He took the seat next to hers.

 

"Mm?"

 

"Do you think Cecil's creepy?"

 

"Radio Cecil, thinks you're going on a date with him? Some of the time. I've heard him get possessed at least once, and he might have incited a mob against your barber, but he doesn't set of any major creep alarms. Which is weird, because mob violence over a haircut is, on paper, super creepo. I think you'd be safe having coffee with him in a public place for sure but I wouldn't encourage him by going back to his place for an 'interview'. Unless that's what you want." She gave him a meaningful look over the top of the magazine.

 

"I don't know what you're talking about."

 

"I didn't tell anyone all through school, I'm not going to tell anyone now. But come on, Carlos... who's going to care? This dingbat's proclaimed his love for you on the radio and no one in town thinks there's anything wrong with the fact that you're both men. Presumably you've got bigger things to worry about in a town where prehistoric creatures and jumbo jets sometimes materialize."

 

"He's not a d-- He proclaimed what? I never said I was-- anything! Cecil... loves me?"

 

"Jay heard it, since all the rest of us were at the press conference--"

 

The press conference! Carlos' heart soared. So Cecil did remember, did recognize him... and hadn't said anything out of deference to Carlos?

 

"He said it was 'love at first sight'." Lita continued, dashing Carlos' hopes. "Which is a little ridiculous, and I don't think you're half as handsome as Cecil seems to think, but hell, I'm not sure anyone's half as handsome as Cecil thinks you are. To hear Jay tell it, anyway. You didn't know any of this? I always thought someone told you and that's why you never liked to listen to his show. But now you're going on a _date_ with him..."

 

"It's not a date."

 

"I'm only teasing."

 

"Well, don't. It's not a date, and it isn't funny. And... Forget it." Carlos shook his head. She hadn't known about the hotline in grad school and she was not going to hear about it now. "I'll set things straight, and... He's a nice guy, really. He's a little weird, but I don't think he's a creep. He'll understand."

 

"I hope so." Lita shrugged, going back to her magazine.

 

Carlos hurried out, before the song could end, and wound up without his coffee.

 

The next morning, he met Cecil at the Moonlite All Night Diner.

 

"We're not meeting for personal reasons." He clarified, hating the way Cecil's smile faded.

 

"Oh. No, of-- of course. Of course we're not. It's... about science, isn't it?"

 

"Yes." Carlos slid into the booth, motioning for Cecil to sit opposite. "I-- I'd appreciate it-- I mean, of course you don't-- The other scientists have been teasing me about the misunderstanding, and... I'm sorry. It's a little mean of them, but it's not your fault. The line was a little bad when I finally got hold of you, so... Anyone could make the mistake, I'm sure."

 

"Sure." Cecil fiddled with the straw dispense on their table, lining it up with the napkin dispenser and condiments, staring hard at them. "I can offer a retraction on the whole 'date' statement."

 

"That would be for the best. Just... so your listeners don't get the wrong idea. Not that-- I just... I came here to focus on _science_ , and it keeps me very busy. Too busy to go on a lot of dates." He excused, reaching out and placing a hand on Cecil's, to still it. "It's not that there's anything undesirable about _you_. It's me."

 

"I've heard 'it's not you, it's me' before." Cecil smiled wryly.

 

"I didn't mean--" Carlos felt his face heat.

 

"That's okay. I was... overeager. I've-- I've just... I guess I've been alone a while. I didn't mean to come off _desperate_."

 

"Oh, no-- I mean... scientists are often alone, so... I didn't know. That you were alone. I mean interested! Either one. But I really do need to talk to you about this clock thing. Is.. is it normal, this grey stuff? I can show you pictures on my phone, but it might turn your stomach."

 

"Clocks are usually empty, aren't they?" Cecil's brow furrowed.

 

"No. Clocks are usually filled with gears, or... or with, with a power source of some kind, and mechanisms to keep them working. Clock parts. And they're always visible, and they don't move around on their own. These are things that only happen in Night Vale, these-- these are some of the reasons _why_ Night Vale is so scientifically interesting, and why it keeps me so very busy, but..." He sighed. "I don't know why I thought you could help. I guess I just wanted-- I wanted answers."

 

"I'm sorry not to have them." Cecil's smile was sympathetic, was terribly sweet, and his hands looked strange and elegant as he traced invisible symbols across the napkin dispenser, before coming to a stop. "I can give you that contact information you wanted, though. I don't know if anyone else will be able to help you with time not working the way you expected it to, but I hope it's still helpful to you to have. And everyone knows how _important_ your work here is, I'm sure they'll be helpful."

 

Carlos wasn't so sure about that. He hadn't thought his presentation was so impressive, when he'd first arrived... but then, there had been an exceptional turnout anyway. Maybe Cecil was right.

 

"Thanks." He said, copying the information down from Cecil's phone to his own. "Much appreciated."

 

"As long as we're here... you could explain this science stuff a little better? With the clocks and time, and why it's so important?"

 

Carlos nodded. For as long as it took to drink a cup of coffee, he could do that... For the good of the both of them, he thought it was best he stay away from Cecil, as much as he could, there were so many ways everything could go wrong if he didn't, but they were already there, and he couldn't just not order anything... at least he could keep the focus on science.

 

He really wished he could take Cecil up on his offer of a tour of the station, when it came up-- despite his frightening first experience there, he'd suffered no ill effects, after all, and he _really_ wanted to run tests on that floating cat. But visiting Cecil's workplace was the exact opposite of avoiding him. No, when he said 'goodbye' at the end of their meeting, it had to be as final as it was possible for it to be.


	8. Call Me For a Ride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carlos didn't think he would ever get the hang of Night Vale, but after a year, he thinks he understands some things. 
> 
> ... sometimes, he's even right about that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (AKA, One Year Later feels, and basic canon compliance, except for the whole Carlos-has-been-avoiding-Cecil-because-of-shared-past-and-his-old-job-as-a-phone-sex-worker thing)

**_Carlos_ **

 

He wasn't sure where the voice was coming from. It was large and echoing and he didn't know if he believed in God, but he was very willing to admit, with that voice ringing in his skull, that he didn't know that he _didn't_ believe.

 

"Yes?" He answered, except he didn't, his lips barely stirring, a whimper barely escaping them.

 

**_Carlos, you've been wrong about a lot of_ _things_.**

 

"Uh-huh." He agreed, two little gusts of air that came with barely any sound, and something _hurt_ , suddenly, when he'd thought he was past the point of hurting anymore, and there was a great sound on some distant shore and a wind that blew through his hair.

 

**_Do you want to know what_ I _think?_**

 

Carlos nodded. Or, his head flopped weakly forward, before he experienced something akin to what he thought toothpaste must feel in the instant between tube and bristles, but felt dimly. 

 

_**I think you need to talk to that boy.** _

 

"Cecil?" His brow furrowed, and this time when he spoke, his mouth cooperated, his lungs and his throat and his tongue and his voice all working in concert, and there was a sound overhead like an owl and more pain. 

 

**No, _the_ other _boy you've only been pining over since grad school, Einstein._**

 

"Okay." He agreed.

 

**_Go get 'im,_ _Tiger_.**

 

"Thanks." Carlos smiled.

 

"You're welcome." Teddy Williams nodded.

 

Carlos blinked, confused. Teddy Williams had _not_ been the voice he'd been talking to. Teddy Williams had not followed him down into the tiny underground city... _had_ he?

 

"You should get over to the hospital." Teddy informed him. "They got more equipment."

 

Carlos nodded. "I'll take that under advisement."

 

Teddy grunted and left Carlos' side, pushing through the ring of onlookers that surrounded them, and then through a second ring around something else.

 

Carlos got to his feet, unsteady at first, and headed to the parking lot.

 

... Where he was _not_ parked. No, the militia and the birthday party had conspired to make the Desert Flower's parking lot a little over-full, Carlos was over outside the Arby's, its own parking lot far more empty, the lights shining overhead, a phenomenon he hadn't even tackled yet.

 

After everything that had happened to him in the tiny city, he didn't _want_ to tackle it. He wanted to hear Cecil's voice again, to have it be just for him. He wanted to explain his change of heart. He wanted Cecil to know that he didn't plan on leaving Night Vale when the project dried up-- the project _wouldn't_ dry up, there would always be something new there to explore and discover, and if the funding stopped coming through, well, he would worry about that when the time came, but so far Ray had managed to arrange a lot more than Carlos ever would have expected.

 

He wanted Cecil to know that he _wished_ it had been a date, when time had stopped existing properly, and that he'd wished he'd been at the party Cecil had planned. He wanted Cecil to know...

 

Well, maybe he didn't want Cecil to know everything. A part of him did, but he had to take one step at a time, with Cecil as with crossing the parking lot on shaking legs.

 

Keys seemed problematic, everything too shaky, so he pulled himself up to sit on the trunk instead, one leg dangling off to the side, and he was glad that there were enough geological samples in the trunk to lower the car's height a good couple of inches, or he wasn't sure he'd have managed that, either. Still, he could get one hand to work, well enough to send a text.

 

_Cecil- things kind of crazy tonight. Thinking a lot. Need you to meet me Arby's parking lot_

 

He didn't know if Cecil would come. He wouldn't blame the man for moving on completely, after the excruciating non-date, except if Cecil really didn't care about him at all, then he never would have planned that party. Carlos really regretted not blowing off the bowling alley early for that party, but then, he'd been so sure that it was harmless.

 

"Nothing is harmless." He sighed to himself, slumping until that caused a sharp pain. He straightened, biting his lip-- first as a reaction to that pain, before settling into gnawing nervously at the inside of it.

 

No... nothing in Night Vale was harmless, but there were still so many things that were _good_. Even Cecil himself was probably not harmless-- how could he be, growing up in a town like that? But Cecil was not a creep, either, and Carlos had been avoiding him too long, for reasons that seemed so stupid in the wake of his misstep with the underground city. Cecil was...

 

Cecil was hurrying towards him-- on foot, and the station was only just across the street, wasn't it? Carlos thought he'd taken that into consideration, when he'd thought he could handle the situation at the bowling alley and only be a little late to Cecil's thing. Of course his entire day had run long, he hadn't even made it _to_ the bowling alley before Cecil had to go on air...

 

Cecil stopped, several feet between them, lit perfectly by those strange lights overhead, and the warm red buzz of the sign itself that made his face-- so recently pallid with fear-- look a little warmer. He seemed torn, the balls of his feet planted firm, his body still drawn forward as if there was a string attached to his sternum that tugged him towards Carlos, or tried to. His hands extended to his sides, mostly down, slightly out-- spread, as if he could take flight, and his eyes were wide behind his glasses, and Carlos had never seen anything so awfully earnest as Cecil in that moment.

 

"What is it?" He asked, voice soft, trembling. "Wh-what danger are we in? What mystery needs to be explored?"

 

Carlos smiled, weary, and patted the spot beside himself on the trunk, too soft even for much sound to carry. "Nothing. After everything that happened, I just wanted to see you."

 

"Oh?" The invisible string tugged Cecil forward two faltering steps, not nearly close enough, and looking at him _hurt_ , almost as much as Carlos' hastily bandaged chest.

 

He turned towards the sunset instead. Watching the sunset together... he thought the Cecil of old would have loved that, would have been so happy to listen to him describe the colors of it, even if he could probably do a better job himself. He patted the trunk again, relaxing when Cecil came the rest of the way over and hopped up to sit beside him.

 

He thought about the clocks, and the way time had slowed, or perhaps had always been slow, in Night Vale, though the calls Cecil used to make to him had always been regular. He thought about the date that wasn't, and how it should have been, and how no matter what had happened to Telly, Cecil was still Cecil, and had still been the sweetest guy to ever call him.

 

"I used to think it was setting at the wrong time. But then I realized that time doesn't work in Night Vale, and none of the clocks are real. Sometimes things seem so strange or malevolent, and then you find that underneath it was something else altogether. Something pure and innocent."

 

"I know what you mean." Cecil said, breathy. Waiting.

 

Cecil had always waited.

 

Maybe that was what Donna couldn't understand. What none of them understood. Cecil wanted, but Cecil waited... Cecil had made him feel so unexploited, so happy with a job that might otherwise have been a hard one to stick with in spite of the great atmosphere and pay.

 

And, his stomach twisted guiltily again, Cecil seemed to not recognize that he was the same Carlos-with-science... seemed not to recognize him. Maybe he had forgotten the whole thing, in the haze of new love, when he'd gotten that new boyfriend and stopped calling, and maybe that was a lot healthier than carrying a torch all that time the way Carlos had. But even if Cecil didn't recognize him now, Cecil had been waiting. And just maybe it was high time Carlos made the first move.

 

He rested a hand on Cecil's knee, breathing out a careful sigh when his palm curved to fit just right.

 

Cecil sighed in return, his head coming to rest against Carlos' shoulder, and he'd thought Cecil was taller than he was, by a fair couple of inches, but now he seemed shorter. Maybe that was right, too, in a place like Night Vale.

 

The sun had set completely, and there was a growing chill that made Carlos want more than just his labcoat-- and he was sure, made Cecil want a jacket himself-- when they finally broke the perfect little quiet that had settled over them.

 

"I should... The radio." Cecil excused.

 

"Yeah, me too. I mean-- not the radio, the, uh, the hospital. Teddy thought I should. I probably need more than just the quick emergency patch-up."

 

Cecil looked up at him, aghast. "I'll drive."

 

"The radio?"

 

"When the weather ends, they can just go to commercial." He shook his head. "I'm, uh, parked across the street, but--"

 

Carlos fished his keys out, handing them over. "You can leave me parked here overnight. If there's a ticket I'll worry about it later. If you're going to insist on driving me anyway, you might as well."

 

"Oh-- oh." Cecil nodded. "Okay."

 

He hopped down from the trunk-- not much of a trip, between the trunk full of rocks and their combined weight lowering the height-- and hurried to help Carlos down and into the passenger's seat.

 

Carlos didn't remember much, after they took him past where Cecil was allowed to be and recommended he spend the night in observation, in case of latent black magic related ill effects from the tiny people. He tried explaining that they'd merely used ballistics and not any kind of magic, but gave up quickly. After the stitches and the anaesthetic and the hour of soothing and rhythmic chanting, he didn't much feel like leaving his hospital bed, and he didn't know where they'd taken his clothes.

 

In the morning, they were sitting on a chair beside his bed, and with them there was a trophy. It was large, and a little bit garish, and he squinted, confused, at the engraving.

 

CARLOS, it read. FIRST IN SCIENCE. FIRST IN OUR HEARTS. ONE YEAR DOWN AND MANY MORE TO COME

 

That... that had to be Cecil. Carlos smiled, picking the trophy up as he got out of bed, wincing in spite of the pains he'd taken to be careful with himself.

 

He pulled his jeans on, waiting to be dismissed before he finished dressing-- the last thing he wanted was to disconnect some piece of the equipment they used to monitor 'potential black magic effects', or worse, some piece of actual medical monitoring equipment, and send the nurses into a tizzy.

 

Once they let him go, though, he headed straight for the nearest area where cell phone use was allowed.

 

_Cecil- thanks for last night. You were very thoughtful. I will find a good place to keep the trophy. Am pretty tender still and have a list of instructions as long as my arm. Some stitches aftercare and some chants I should be doing. Figure I am better safe than sorry... Anyway would love to take you out to say thanks when all healed up and also to say other things not about science. XO_

 

He hit send, feeling optimistic about things. Nothing was written in stone saying he and Cecil couldn't work-- if it was, Cecil would have known about something weird like that, surely, before giving Carlos his number.

 


	9. Ooh, He Speaks the Language of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If there is date etiquette for Carlos' situation, he doesn't know it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (second to the last chapter, so... just a heads up)

"This was a really nice date idea." Cecil smiled, squeezing Carlos' hand.

 

Carlos felt his mouth dry out. It _was_ a nice date idea. It was _Cecil's_ really nice date idea. When they reached the little copse of trees, he was too nervous to even think about kissing the other man, his stomach roiling. How long could he pretend he was just really good at guessing what Cecil liked? Would Cecil put it all together-- would he be upset? Did it matter, when Carlos didn't _want_ to keep it a secret?

 

He mumbled something about taking bark samples, and only taking a minute, and Cecil just nodded, with the sweet smile Carlos had always know he would have, even before he knew what Cecil's face would actually look like. He pulled a zip-top baggie and a pair of tweezers out of one of his lab coat's pockets, carefully picking at the tree's bark, and the lab could use a small sample, after all...

 

Cecil touched his face, just barely, with whisper-soft fingertips, and Carlos kept picking, until he had a very small heart outlined. It was still as minimal as he could get in terms of harm to the tree... but it was all he could really think to do to salvage the situation after he'd gone and mentioned engaging in scientific study on a romantic date. He still couldn't believe he'd done that, except no, of course he could. Of course he did. It was all he ever did, science. He didn't even want to think critically about the last time he'd been on a date at all, let alone one he'd cared about. 

 

"It's late..." He frowned, nervous, as he pocketed the baggie of bark. "I mean-- the sun's going down, and your... your tunic looks awfully thin. For the cold."

 

Cecil smoothed the front of it with a little smile, and as they left the trees and reached the crest of a gentle little hill, the setting sun backlit Cecil perfectly, shone through the belled sleeves of his tunic, any sheerer and the glimpses it could have afforded...

 

"Do you like it?"

 

"Yes." Carlos nodded. He'd been a little flabbergasted when Cecil had picked him up, mostly by the pants. Cecil had just preened and smiled, when he'd stared, and said he could touch them if he liked, and he'd touched Cecil's knee in the truck on the way to Gino's, just briefly. They were weird, but they were soft, and probably provided adequate warmth for the chill of the desert nights. And by the end of the night, he'd gotten used to them. They were... attractive, in their own odd way.

 

"I'm glad. I wanted to... to look nice."

 

"You always look nice." Carlos shrugged. "I-- I think it's a nice color on you. I just... we should get going, before we turn into shadow people or you get too cold. Those are both very real dangers right now. I-- I could..."

 

 _Keep you warm_ , his brain prompted. But he couldn't offer his labcoat, there was all sorts of sensitive equipment and materials in the pockets of even his weekend lab coat. An arm around Cecil, though, he desperately wanted to offer that, and couldn't.

 

He let Cecil take him back to the lab instead, finally plucking up the courage for a kiss goodnight, if not the one he had wanted to give.

 

He moved the radio into the lab, after that night. If Cecil was going to be his boyfriend-- he so hoped that was what was happening-- then he really ought to make an effort to listen to the show, and eventually he'd have to unlearn his unfortunate Pavlovian response to that voice... further exposure could only help.

 

It was weird, listening to Cecil describe their date, all the things that he treated as normal that Carlos was still learning his way around. It was nice, though, to hear how happy he sounded over it.

 

Less nice, to hear little notes of disappointment creep in where he'd been too nervous himself to notice them the night before. When the show ended, he took his phone into the break room and shut everyone else out.

 

"Cecil? Hi. It's Carlos-- Well, I mean, of course you-- I'm calling for personal reasons again?"

 

"Carlos." He could hear Cecil's wide pleased smile curling around his name, the special depth and warmth he was granted. "Hello."

 

"I'd like to see you again. Preferably soon. I would like to talk about some things and to tell you I was sorry I couldn't invite you in last night. There are some things I think I have to tell you, before I can invite you in. Not to the lab, though, to my apartment. Well, my apartment is over the lab, so... Or things that I have to tell you once I do invite you in, before we make any decisions about other things we might like to do together."

 

"When?" Cecil asked.

 

"Um... Are you free tonight?"

 

He kicked himself as soon as the words were out. Half the team was still hanging around the lab finishing up the day's work, and had just listened to a somewhat more personal account than usual on the radio, about his love life, and what would they think if Cecil came in? No one had really said anything to him, yet, though he didn't think it was the standard way of coming out to one's coworkers. Then again, he was kind of their boss... maybe no one would say anything?

 

"Carlos, this is so sudden! Yes, I'm free. It's not out of my way at all-- I could be over in ten?"

 

"Great." Carlos nodded. "I-- I'll see you then. I'll... I'll see you."

 

He paced the break room for two minutes, and paced the lab for six more, and then there was a knock at the door and he figured eight minutes and ten minutes were not really very different.

 

The scientists did a very good job of pretending not to pay far too much attention when Carlos let Cecil in and ushered him upstairs, though he was sure they erupted into gossip once he was gone... But Cecil was more important. Finally telling Cecil the truth was more important.

 

"This is the apartment." He shrugged awkwardly, showing Cecil in. "You can sit down. You probably should."

 

Cecil was dressed as he usually was, no furry pants to be found, just a shirt that was so barely blue it could be mistaken for white, and a tie so deeply navy it could be taken for black, and dark jeans instead of slacks.

 

"You look nice." Carlos offered.

 

"So do you." Cecil smiled, settling onto Carlos' futon, a piece of furniture that probably felt like some medieval torture device compared to the comfy sofa Cecil had once described to him...

 

"Cecil... I have something important to tell you." Carlos sat at the other end, leaving some space between them.

 

Space which Cecil quickly scooted in to bridge. "I'm listening."

 

"And I understand if it changes things. I do. I-- I never meant to hide it from you. I was just surprised, by... by all this. I-- Before I was a scientist, I... I did sex work, for a while."

 

"Oh."

 

Carlos looked up from his hands, lip caught between his teeth. It was a very difficult to read 'oh', and Cecil's face was too carefully composed to offer him any clues.

 

"Yeah." He sighed.

 

"Oh. Well. Okay." Cecil nodded, taking deep and even breaths, expression still blank. "That is not what I expected... Thank you for telling me? I mean, yes! Thank you, for thinking that I deserved to have this information! I just... don't know what to do with it? I mean, I am glad that you trust me, and that you think I'm important enough to share that with, and... I can't pretend I don't feel a little jealous if I think about lines of men paying to run their hands through your perfect hair, but--"

 

Carlos snorted. It turned into a real laugh, and he placed a hand on Cecil's knee, shaking his head.

 

"Cecil, I think it's... cute, that you think that's anything like what-- I'm flattered, actually, in a way. It wasn't that kind of sex work. I'm not sure anyone does that kind of sex work."

 

"Then your hair is...?"

 

"All yours. Virgin hair. It's new since that haircut anyway, so... this particular hair has never been pawed at."

 

Cecil nodded, glancing at it, and then at Carlos, with wide eyes. "Of course it wouldn't change what I think of _you_. Any jealousy on my part would be my problem entirely and your reasons are your own and I'm the last person who could condemn anyone for, for anything, um... and I hope you don't think it's awful of me for asking, but I can't help wondering, I really can't help wondering... is there, ah... is there video somewhere, then, of... of this work, of yours? That could be found and enjoyed by people who are interested in seeing you naked. Hypothetically?"

 

He snorted again. "Cecil, if you still want to date after all of this, then you can see me naked in person sometime. No, it... I... I had a scholarship, and to cover what it wouldn't pay for, I worked at a phone sex hotline. In grad school."

 

He felt like he couldn't breathe, with that hanging there between them, watching Cecil stare back at him, watching the saccades of his eyes as they took everything in, as his brain took everything in, and as both formed a complete and complex image.

 

" _Carlos_?" Cecil reached for him at last, touching his cheek again. "I-- n-no... Were _you_ \--?"

 

"I had this favorite client." He smiled, still nervous, but relaxing one degree at a time with Cecil's hand cupping his face.

 

"Congratulations!" Cecil laughed, throwing himself forward into a hug, and Carlos had to catch him to make sure that he didn't hit anything that was still sore after a month of recovery. "You're a scientist, a real, an important scientist! I... I remember. I remember. I think maybe I didn't, always? But I do. I remember you. My memory is sometimes weird. Time is sometimes weird, though, so... But it's you! You... you remembered me?"

 

"Always." Carlos shrugged. "You were a little hard to forget. You were sweet. And you had that voice. You still do."

 

"Yours is different." Cecil smiled, cuddling right down against Carlos' shoulder. "You sound older... You look-- good. You look good."

 

"So do you."

 

"I didn't think... I knew I'd..." Cecil halted, finding Carlos' hand with his own and lacing their fingers together as he took a deep breath. "All this time, you remembered me?"

 

"I didn't know how to tell you, when... when we met, and I recognized your voice. And you gave me your number and I recognized that, too. And you didn't seem to recognize me, and I thought... maybe you forgot. When you started dating that guy."

 

Cecil's brow furrowed and he lifted his head. "Dating what guy?"

 

"The guy? Whoever you were falling in love with, when you said you'd have to stop calling?" Carlos prompted.

 

Cecil laughed again, and when Carlos only grew more confused, he bent his head to drop a kiss to Carlos' hand. "You mean you? I was falling for you. I figured... what were my chances? I didn't even know where you physically existed, and you were probably just... I mean, I paid for your company, so... sounded like a recipe for heartbreak."

 

"That's what they all told me." Carlos smiled, reaching up to brush a hand across Cecil's cheek. "I mean, that I shouldn't... get emotionally invested, in a client. I kind of may have."

 

"Well... but then you came here. And I fell for you twice, that has to mean something. Right?"

 

Carlos nodded. "I think so."

 

"... You _knew_ I would like the park." Cecil accused with a grin.

 

"It's green there." Carlos shrugged. "And I couldn't find any movie times. I called the number and all I got was a sound like a garbage disposal."

 

"Ugh. Gary." Cecil rolled his eyes. "They should know better than to let him answer the phone. He's a nice guy, but his mouth doesn't form human speech, so..."

 

"Of course." Carlos laughed. "That... that makes sense, then."

 

The Carlos of a year ago might have been horrified... but the Carlos who had Cecil cuddled up to him on his futon, he thought it made perfect sense, the way only Night Vale did.


	10. Cover Me With Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's different in person...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (yeah, that's the end of this one... it went on a bit longer than I'd originally thought it would, though, so there's that!)

For the history they had, they took things slow. It felt wrong to rush things with Cecil in the real world, when they were in a real relationship, and he was more than a little worried he would disappoint, in the flesh.

 

A few weeks in and they hadn't gotten past a little heavy petting, and Cecil didn't complain, but it reached the point where Carlos had a feeling he couldn't possibly disappoint Cecil more with anything they did in bed than he would by stopping things short. His scars had all healed pretty well, the stitches long gone, and getting undressed was still a prospect fraught with embarrassment, but at least he no longer had to worry that any injury-related disaster would ensue. And he was pretty tired of going home after dates to furiously masturbate and then sleep alone.

 

When he found himself on Cecil's couch-- comfortable as he'd always imagined, from its initial description, and by furniture standards he had to figure it was ancient, but it was nice-- he didn't pull back.

 

"I, uh... I've been improving." He offered. "I mean, the-- the scars, from the bowling alley. And there are no medical reasons for me to not go to bed with you anymore. Even being overly-cautious, as a scientist, a scientist sometimes has to be, there wouldn't be anything to keep me from, from giving you the... uh, the attention you deserve. Sorry, I... I was a lot smoother on the phone."

 

Cecil chuckled, curling himself in close, head on Carlos' shoulder. "Oh, I'm sure we both were."

 

"No, you're wonderful." Carlos smiled, one hand slipping down to the small of Cecil's back. "I'm awkward. It's... been kind of a long time. Scientists, we don't... uh, we don't always date a lot. Because science takes up so much time. And so much of our socializing is with coworkers and department heads and potential funding sources, and it would be unethical to sleep with any of those people. And, in my case, none of them have been _you_. Which is something of an impediment. I am a little nervous. What if I'm all talk?"

 

"Then we'll talk." Cecil grinned, a hand sliding up Carlos' chest. "But we'll talk in the same room. And look at each other. And touch."

 

"You make it sound very reasonable. I knew there was a reason I l-liked you so much."

 

"My bedroom is right through that door. If... that's what you were aiming at."

 

Carlos nodded, sliding halfway out from under Cecil and offering him a hand up. "I don't mean to be nervous. I think I won't be, the more often we do it all. You normally make me feel not too nervous, now that we're together, and we know each other better, so I think it's a sound assumption. I just... Well, the scars are so new, so... you'll be the first person to see them. In a romantic context. And you probably never... never really imagined me with, with the grey hair and the scars and maybe I made myself sound more physically attractive than I am, so... I was a lot more confident when I couldn't physically disappoint you, that's all."

 

" _Carlos_." Cecil breathed, a soft rebuke in it. "I like to think I couldn't possibly be disappointed by anything you've got, physically, because I am not a shallow person, but while it's a fair thing to worry about your first time with someone, I _hope_ you don't think I could ever, ever be disappointed by your _hair_!"

 

"Right." He chuckled. "Of course. The grey doesn't bother you, even when you weigh me against the Carlos you might have imagined?"

 

"I think it makes you look distinguished." Cecil cuddled right back up to him, brushing his fingers across the greying at one temple. "Very handsome. Besides... I think a few scars from a scientific expedition can only really enhance the air of rugged bravery."

 

Carlos laughed. "No one's ever called me rugged before. Short. Skinny. Shrimpy. Milquetoast-esque. Never rugged."

 

"But you have such a square jaw. And what's braver than scientific discovery and the dedication to it?"

 

"Okay, then." He nodded. "I think I feel less nervous."

 

Cecil beamed, leading him to the bedroom by the hand.

 

Carlos didn't think any of his coworkers would believe just how _normal_ Cecil's bedroom looked. The furniture was all pretty standard. Nice, for a bachelor, but then, Cecil had taste-- strange tastes, sometimes, with the furry pants, but good taste overall. Sheets a little nicer than Carlos' own plaid flannel, a ceiling fan and overhead light, a couple of framed movie posters... No weird shrines to Carlos' hair or to some eldritch horror, nothing covered in spiders or blood or whatever terrible thing half the lab probably thought. Just a bedroom.

 

Carlos liked the posters-- one was a French poster for 'Red River', one the Argentine poster for 'Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid', and the last was for 'The Man Who Loved Cat Dancing'. Those and the quilt on the bed were the things that seemed to make the room _Cecil's_. Not weird, but personal.

 

Cecil himself stood by the bed, seemingly taken by nervousness himself, and Carlos moved to kiss him.

 

"It's nice. Thanks for having me."

 

"I haven't had you yet." Cecil joked.

 

"Well, you will." Carlos promised, finding the hem of Cecil's tunic, slipping a hand under to caress bare skin. So far no new territory, he'd gotten a hand under Cecil's date night tunics before, but this time it was touched, enhanced, by the knowledge that he'd go farther.

  
Cecil was so perfectly kissable, so yielding, and Carlos let his hands wander, took some time just kissing and caressing before he bothered with getting the tunic off. It wasn't as finely embroidered as the one Cecil had worn on their first date, and the fabric seemed not too strange or fancy, and Carlos didn't feel guilty just lobbing it towards the laundry hamper so that he could get his hands back on Cecil without distraction, and Cecil made absolutely no complaint. He just threw himself back onto the bed and invited Carlos to follow him down, to pin him in place with the weight of his body, with limbs bracketing Cecil in, with kisses keeping him a very willing prisoner. 

 

Carlos was less confident when it came to ditching his own shirt, but he'd faked confidence before in his life, and with Cecil, he'd never needed to fake it for long. The adoring gaze and gentle, reverent touch put any lingering fears at ease.

 

"That's them." He shrugged, with a little smile, as Cecil barely touched the little constellation of scars across his ribs. He'd been hit by a real barrage, though most of it had been more like getting sprayed with shrapnel than anything. "They're not as ugly as they were at first..."

 

"Do they hurt at all?"

 

"Not when you touch them." He shook his head. "They feel tight sometimes. They always ache and itch a little, mid-afternoon. But it doesn't hurt to touch them anymore, unless they're already acting up. I'll go in later and get an injection that's supposed to help some of them."

 

Cecil nodded, touching with more confidence.

 

"There are some on my legs, too, but I feel like they're less noticeable... they never got as bad as this sort of... whole mess here did. Shallow ones. One on my ankle might not even be a permanent scar."

 

"That's good, I guess. I mean, it's definitely good that they were shallow. And it's good if you're happy, with how they are and what the prognosis is."

 

"Yeah. I think I am. This here is where there was some kind of little infection... but it wasn't bad. Anyway, it's not bad now. But I'm glad we waited for it to be not so bad."

 

Cecil nodded again, his focus moving to Carlos' chest hair, fingers trailing through it, tracing the whorls the hair grew in. Carlos simply let him, for a while, before pushing his hand away gently.

 

"I'd like to take good care of you." He nuzzled at the side of Cecil's neck, working his way down Cecil's chest.

 

"Uh-huh?"

 

"Yes... I'd like to."

 

"Neat." Cecil squeaked. He looked immediately mortified, and Carlos kissed him, warm and slow. 

 

"You're cute." He smiled reassuringly. "I'm going to like taking care of you."

 

Cecil nodded, and Carlos worked his way down to Cecil's waistband, freeing him of belt and jeans with a focus interrupted from singlemindedness only by a series of meandering kisses to any spot that caught his fancy.

 

"It-- it's not fair, is it?" Cecil played with his hair. "That you know what I like already and I don't, I don't know what you like?"

 

"You know what I like." Carlos promised, tugging Cecil's briefs down and dropping a kiss to one hip. "You're the only guy who ever really got to know what I like. I-- I don't mean clients, either. I mean... I mean I've never had the space, or never had the confidence... But I will like taking care of you. I like having the lead. I like blowjobs. And I like being with you, Cecil."

 

He shrugged, with a flash of a shy smile, and Cecil grinned.

 

"That's convenient for me, then."

 

"I thought so."

 

"I like being with you, too."

 

"I know."

 

And there it was, the cock he'd provided loving long-distance service to, springing up half hard and fitting perfectly in his hand, and the foreskin was definitely loose enough to play with. The _sounds_ Cecil made, when Carlos worked up enough saliva to keep his tongue slick and wet and ran it between foreskin and cockhead were sounds that would remain permanently burned into his brain. He was pretty sure he could entertain himself all night just playing with that little bit of skin, but that didn't seem fair to Cecil. Cecil, who was already so much harder and still making those _sounds_.

 

Even rusty as he was and relying on his hands to pick up a lot of slack, there was something immensely satisfying in being able to give Cecil a real, physical blowjob. Carlos was grateful they'd established a couple of things ahead of time, when the pressure had been off. He wasn't sure he'd have had the presence of mind to worry about condoms when he finally reached that point, and wasn't confident in his ability to discuss the important but non-sexy aspects of beginning a sexual relationship with someone, if he'd been doing it all with imminent sex looming on the horizon. Having the talks while he was still recovering from the tiny city had been a good idea and he was very glad he'd had it, and very glad that one of Cecil's answers had been 'I don't need condoms, unless you'd be more comfortable with', because Cecil tasted _fantastic_.

 

He tried to figure out how much of that was pheromones, how much was sheer lust, and how much might have been down to Cecil's diet. It gave his brain something to do other than dwell on his own erection, but in the end he couldn't really come to a conclusion.

 

Cecil was enthusiastic in returning the favor, once he had his breath back, once Carlos had licked him clean in spite of the squirming, pulling away only at the first weak protest with an apologetic kiss to his belly.

 

Enthusiastic was, if anything, an understatement. Cecil was...

 

Cecil was perfect. Cecil ran blunt nails down Carlos' thighs, not hard enough to scratch the skin, and sucked at his balls, and discovered just the right gentle little tug to short, wiry curls that had Carlos groaning out delighted obscenities and wondering how he'd never found that out himself.

 

Best of all, on being thanked, on being praised, Cecil smiled, soft and grateful and shy, and cuddled down against Carlos' thigh, cheek warm against his skin, and that was another talk they'd have to have, maybe an awkward one at first the way the hotline talk had been... but ultimately, just as rewarding, because Carlos would put even money on Cecil being a natural sub, and even if Cecil was never interested in anything beyond merely giving Carlos the lead, if he always looked at him as sweetly as he did there and then, Carlos thought that would be just fine.

 

That would be perfect.


End file.
